THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


Ex  Libris 
'    C.  K.  OGDEN    ' 


fiUWUt  cud  fat 


Fram  iPbotORTSLph  by  Claud  et. 


d  ty  C.Cocik. 


THE 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND 


FROM   THE 


ACCESSION  OF  JAMES  THE  SECOND 


BY 

LORD  MACAULAY 


VOLUME  I 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS 

FRAXKT.IX    SQUARE 


CONTENTS 


THE    FIRST    VOLUME, 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGB 

INTRODUCTION 13 

Britain  under  the  Romans 15 

Britain  under  the  Saxons 16 

Conversion  of  the  Saxons  to  Christianity 17 

Danish  Invasions 20 

The  Normans 21 

The  Norman  Conquest 23 

Separation  of  England  and  Normandy 25 

Amalgamation  of  Races 26 

English  Conquests  on  the  Continent 28 

Wars  of  the  Roses 30 

Extinction  of  Villeinage 31 

Beneficial  Operation  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Religion 32 

The  early  English  Polity  often  misrepresented,  and  why 34 

Nature  of  the  limited  Monarchies  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  Preroga- 
tives of  the  early  English  Kings 37 

Limitations  of  the  Prerogative 38 

Resistance  an  ordinary  Check  on  Tyranny  in  the  Middle  Ages  ...  42 

Peculiar  Character  of  the  English  Aristocracy 45 

Government  of  the  Tudors 47 

Limited  Monarchies  of  the  Middle  Ages  generally  turned  into 

absolute  Monarchies 49 

The  English  Monarchy  a  singular  Exception 50 

The  Reformation  and  its  Effects 51 

Origin  of  the  Church  of  England 57 


4  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Her  peculiar  Character 58 

Relation  in  which  she  stood  to  the  Crown 60 

The  Puritans 64 

Their  Republican  Spirit 65 

Xo  systematic  Parliamentary  Opposition  offered  to  the  Govern- 
ment of  Elizabeth 66 

Question  of  the  Monopolies 68 

Scotland  and  Ireland  become  Parts  of  the  same  Empire  with 

England 69 

Diminution  of  the  Importance  of  England  after  the  Accession  of 

James  1 73 

Doctrine  of  Divine  Right 74 

The  Separation  between  the  Church  and  the  Puritans  becomes 

wider 78 

Accession  and  Character  of  Charles  I 86 

Tactics  of  the  Opposition  in  the  House  of  Commons 87 

Petition  of  Right 88 

Petition  of  Right  violated ;  Character  and  Designs  of  Wentworth  89 

Character  of  Laud 90 

Star-chamber  and  High  Commission 91 

Ship-money 93 

Resistance  to  the  Liturgy  in  Scotland 94 

A  Parliament  called  and  dissolved 97 

The  Long  Parliament 98 

First  appearance  of  the  two  great  English  parties 99 

The  Irish  Rebellion 105 

The  Remonstrance 107 

Impeachment  of  the  Five  Members 108 

Departure  of  Charles  from  London 110 

Commencement  of  the  Civil  War 113 

Successes  of  the  Royalists 115 

Rise  of  the  Independents ;  Oliver  Cromwell 116 

Self-denying  Ordinance 117 

Victory  of  the  Parliament 118 

Domination  and  Character  of  the  Army 119 

Risings  against  the  Military  Government  suppressed 121 

Proceedings  against  the  King 122 

His  Execution 126 

Subjugation  of  Ireland  and  Scotland 127 


CONTENTS.  5 

PACK 

Expulsion  of  the  Long  Parliament 129 

The  Protectorate  of  Oliver  Cromwell 132 

Oliver  succeeded  by  Richard 136 

Fall  of  Richard  and  Revival  of  the  Long  Parliament 139 

Second  Expulsion  of  the  Long  Parliament 140 

The  Army  of  Scotland  marches  into  England 141 

Monk  declares  for  a  free  Parliament 143 

General  Election  of  1660 144 

The  Restoration 145 


CHAPTER  II. 

Conduct  of  those  who  restored  the  House  of  Stuart  unjustly 

censured 147 

Abolition  of  Tenures  by  Knight  Service;    Disbanding  of  the 

Army 149 

Disputes  between  the  Roundheads  and  Cavaliers  renewed 150 

Religious  Dissension 152 

Unpopularity  of  the  Puritans 155 

Character  of  Charles  II 161 

Characters  of  the  Duke  of  York  and  Earl  of  Clarendon 165 

General  Election  of  1661 ;  Violence  of  the  Cavaliers  in  the  new 

Parliament 168 

Persecution  of  the  Puritans 169 

Zeal  of  the  Church  for  hereditary  Monarchy 171 

Change  in  the  Morals  of  the  Community 172 

Profligacy  of  Politicians 174 

State  of  Scotland 176 

State  of  Ireland 178 

The  Government  becomes  unpopular  in  England 179 

War  with  the  Dutch 182 

Opposition  in  the  House  of  Commons 184 

Fall  of  Clarendon 185 

State  of  European  Politics,  and  Ascendency  of  France 188 

Character  of  Lewis  XIV 189 

The  Triple  Alliance 192 

The  Country  Party 193 

Connection  between  Charles  II.  and  France 194 

Views  of  Lewis  with  respect  to  England 196 


6  CONTENTS. 

PACE 

Treaty  of  Dover 198 

Nature  of  the  English  Cabinet 200 

The  Cabal 201 

Shutting  of  the  Exchequer 204 

War  with  the  United  Provinces,  and  their  extreme  Danger 205 

William,  Prince  of  Orange 206 

Meeting  of  the  Parliament ;  Declaration  of  Indulgence 208 

It  is  cancelled,  and  the  Test  Act  passed 210 

The  Cabal  dissolved;  Peace  with  the  United  Provinces 211 

Administration  of  Danby 212 

Embarrassing  Situation  of  the  Country  Party 214 

Dealings  of  that  Party  with  the  French  Embassy 215 

Peace  of  Nimeguen ;  Violent  Discontents  in  England 216 

Fall  of  Danby  ;  The  Popish  Plot 219 

First  General  Election  of  1679 222 

Violence  of  the  new  House  of  Commons 224 

Temple's  Plan  of  Government 225 

Character  of  Halifax 228 

Character  of  Sunderland 231 

Prorogation  of  the  Parliament ;  Habeas  Corpus  Act 233 

Second  General  Election  of  1679  ;  Popularity  of  Monmouth. . . .  234 

Lawrence  Hyde 238 

Sidney  Godolphin 239 

Violence  of  Factions  on  the  Subject  of  the  Exclusion  Bill ;  Names 

of  Whig  and  Tory 240 

Meeting  of  Parliament;  the  Exclusion  Bill  passes  the  Commons; 

Exclusion  Bill  rejected  by  the  Lords 242 

Execution  of  Stafford  ;  General  Election  of  1681 243 

Parliament  held  at  Oxford,  and  dissolved 244 

Tory  Reaction , 245 

Persecution  of  the  Whigs 247 

Charter  of  the  City  confiscated ;  Whig  Conspiracies 248 

Detection  of  the  Whig  Conspiracies ;  Severity  of  the  Government  250 

Seizure  of  Charters 251 

Influence  of  the  Duke  of  York 253 

He  is  opposed  by  Halifax 254 

Lord  Guildford 255 

Policy  of  Lewis 257 

State  of  Factions  in  the  Court  at  the  Time  of  Charles's  Death  . .  259 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

PAGE 

Great  Change  in  the  State  of  England  since  1685 261 

Population  of  England  in  1685 262 

Increase  of  Population  greater  in  the  North  than  in  the  South. .  264 

Revenue  in  1685 267 

Military  System 270 

The  Navy 277 

The  Ordnance ;  Non-effective  Charge 284 

Charge  of  Civil  Government 285 

Great  Gains  of  Ministers  and  Courtiers 286 

State  of  Agriculture 288 

Mineral  Wealth  of  the  Country 293 

Increase  of  Rent ;  The  Country  Gentlemen 295 

The  Clergy 300 

The  Yeomanry 309 

Growth  of  the  Towns ;  Bristol 310 

Norwich 312 

Other  Country  Towns 314 

Manchester 315 

Leeds ;  Sheffield 316 

Birmingham 317 

Liverpool 318 

AVatering-places ;  Cheltenham  ;  Brighton 319 

Buxton  ;  Tnnbridge  Wells 320 

Bath 321 

London 322 

The  City ,„..• 324 

Fashionable  Part  of  the  Capital 329 

Police  of  London  ;  Lighting  of  London 334 

Whitefriars 335 

The  Court 336 

The  Coffee-houses 339 

Difficulty  of  Travelling 343 

Badness  of  the  Roads 344 

Stage-coaches 348 

Highwaymen 351 

Inns 353 

Post-office  .  .355 


8  CONTENTS. 

PACK 

Newspapers 357 

News-letters 359 

The  Observator 361 

Scarcity  of  Books  in  Country  Places ;  Female  Education 362 

Literary  Attainments  of  Gentlemen 364 

Influence  of  French  Literature 365 

Immorality  of  the  Polite  Literature  of  England 367 

State  of  Science  in  England 373 

State  of  the  Fine  Arts 379 

State  of  the  Common  People ;  Agricultural  Wages 381 

Wages  of  Manufacturers 384 

Labor  of  Children  in  Factories ;  Wages  of  different  Classes  of 

Artisans 385 

Number  of  Paupers 386 

Benefits  derived  by  the  Common  People  from  the  Progress  of 

Civilization 388 

Delusion  which  leads  Men  to  overrate  the  Happiness  of  preceding 

Generations 391 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Death  of  Charles  II 393 

Suspicions  of  Poison 404 

Speech  of  James  II.  to  the  Privy  Council .  406 

James  proclaimed 407 

State  of  the.  Administration 408 

New  Arrangements 410 

Sir  George  Jeffreys 412 

The  Revenue  collected  without  an  Act  of  Parliament 416 

A  Parliament  called 417 

Transactions  between  James  and  the  French  King 418 

Churchill  sent  Ambassador  to  France 421 

Feelings  of  the  Continental  Governments  toward  England 424 

Policy  of  the  Court  of  Rome 426 

Struggle  in  the  Mind  of  James;  Fluctuations  of  his  Policy 429 

Public  Celebration  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Rites  in  the  Palace  . .  431 

His  Coronation •  433 

Enthusiasm  of  the  Tories ;  Addresses 436 

The  Elections  .  437 


CONTENTS.  9 

PAGE 

Proceedings  against  Gates 441 

Proceedings  against  Dangerfield 446 

Proceedings  against  Baxter 448 

Meeting  of  the  Parliament  of  Scotland 452 

Feeling  of  James  toward  the  Puritans 453 

Cruel  Treatment  of  the  Scotch  Covenanters 455 

Feeling  of  James  toward  the  Quakers 460 

William  Penn 462 

Peculiar  Favor  shown  to  Roman  Catholics  and  Quakers 465 

Meeting  of  the  English  Parliament 467 

Trevor  chosen  Speaker ;  Character  of  Seymour 468 

The  King's  Speech  to  the  Parliament 469 

Debate  in  the  Commons ;  Speech  of  Seymour 470 

The  Revenue  voted ;  Proceedings  of  the  Commons  concerning 

Religion 472 

Additional  Taxes  voted ;   Sir  Dudley  North 473 

Proceedings  of  the  Lords 475 

Bill  for  reversing  the  Attainder  of  Stafford 477 

CHAPTER  V. 

Whig  Refugees  on  the  Continent 478 

Their  Correspondents  in  England 479 

Characters  of  the  leading  Refugees ;  Ayloffe 480 

Wade  ;  Goodenough 481 

Rumbold ;  Lord  Grey 482 

Monmouth 483 

Ferguson 485 

Scotch  Refugees ;  Earl  of  Argyle 489 

Sir  Patrick  Hume  ;  Sir  John  Cochrane 492 

Fletcher  of  Saltoun 493 

Unreasonable  Conduct  of  the  Scotch  Refugees 494 

Arrangement  for  an  Attempt  on  England  and  Scotland 495 

John  Locke 497 

Preparations  made  by  Government  for  the  Defence  of  Scotland ; 

Conversation  of  James  with  the  Dutch  Ambassadors 498 

Ineffectual  Attempts  to  prevent  Argyle  from  sailing 499 

Departure  of  Argyle  from  Holland ,  .  501 

He  lands  in  Scotland  .  .  502 


10  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

His  Disputes  with  his  Followers 503 

Temper  of  the  Scotch  Nation 505 

Argyle's  Forces  dispersed 508 

Argyle  a  Prisoner 509 

His  Execution 514 

Execution  of  Rumbold 515 

Death  of  Ayloffe 517 

Devastation  of  Argyleshirc 518 

Ineffectual  Attempts  to  prevent  Monmouth  from  leaving  Holland.  519 

His  Arrival  at  Lyme 521 

His  Declaration 522 

His  Popularity  in  the  West  of  England 523 

Encounter  of  the  Rebels  with  the  Militia  at  Bridport 525 

Encounter  of  the  Rebels  with  the  Militia  at  Axminster 527 

News  of  the  Rebellion  carried  to  London  ;  Loyalty  of  the  Parlia- 
ment    528 

Reception  of  Monmouth  at  Taunton 532 

He  takes  the  Title  of  King 535 

His  Reception  at  Bridgewater 538 

Preparations  of  the  Government  to  oppose  him. 539 

His  Design  on  Bristol 542 

He  relinquishes  that  Design 544 

Skirmish  at  Philip's  Norton 545 

Despondence  of  Monmouth 546 

He  returns  to  Bridgewater 547 

The  Royal  Army  encamps  at  Sedgemoor 548 

Battle  of  Sedgemoor 552 

Pursuit  of  the  Rebels ;  Military  Executions 558 

Flight  of  Monmouth ......... 559 

His  Capture 561 

His  Letter  to  the  King;  He  is  carried  to  London 563 

His  Interview  with  the  King 564 

His  Execution 568 

His  Memory  cherished  by  the  common  People 572 

Cruelties  of  the  Soldiers. in  the  West 574 

Kirke 575 

Jeffreys  sets  out  on  the  Western  Circuit 579 

Trial  of  Alice  Lisle 580 

The  Bloody  Assizes 584 


CONTENTS.  11 

PAGE 

Abraham  Holmes ;  Christopher  Battiscombe 588 

The  Hewlings 589 

Punishment  of  Tutchin 590 

Rebels  transported 591 

Confiscation  and  Extortion 592 

Rapacity  of  the  Queen  and  of  her  Ladies 593 

Grey ;  Cochrane ;  Storey 600 

Wade,  Goodenough,  and  Ferguson 601 

Jeffreys  made  Lord  Chancellor 603 

Trial  and  Execution  of  Cornish 604 

Trials  and  Executions  of  Fernley  and  Elizabeth  Gaunt 606 

Trial  and  Execution  of  Bateman ;  Persecution  of  the  Protestant 

Dissenters 608 


HISTOEY   OF   ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  PURPOSE  to  write  the  history  of  England  from  the  acces- 
sion of  King  James  the  Second  down  to  a  time  which  is 
within  the  memory  of  men  still  living.     I  shall  re- 

Introduction.  n  .  .    ,  -  -IT 

count  the  errors  which,  m  a  lew  months,  alienated 
a  loyal  gentry  and  priesthood  from  the  House  of  Stuart.  I 
shall  trace  the  course  of  that  revolution  which  terminated  the 
long  struggle  between  our  sovereigns  and  their  parliaments, 
and  bound  up  together  the  rights  of  the  people  and  the  title 
of  the  reigning  dynasty.  I  shall  relate  how  the  new  settle- 
ment was,  during  many  troubled  years,  successfully  defended 
against  foreign  and  domestic  enemies ;  how,  under  that  settle- 
ment, the  authority  of  law  and  the  security  of  property  were 
found  to  be  compatible  with  a  liberty  of  discussion  and  of 
individual  action  never  before  known ;  how,  from  the  auspi- 
cious union  of  order  and  freedom,  sprang  a  prosperity  of 
which  the  annals  of  human  affairs  had  furnished  no  example ; 
how  our  country,  from  a  state  of  ignominious  vassalage,  rap- 
idly rose  to  the  place  of  umpire  among  European  powers; 
how  her  opulence  and  her  martial  glory  grew  together ;  how, 
by  wise  and  resolute  good  faith,  was  gradually  established  a 
public  credit  fruitful  of  marvels  which  to  the  statesmen  of 
any  former  age  would  have  seemed  incredible ;  how  a  gigan- 
tic commerce  gave  birth  to  a  maritime  power,  compared  with 
which  every  other  maritime  power,  ancient  or  modern,  sinks 
into  insignificance ;  how  Scotland,  after  ages  of  enmity,  was 
at  length  united  to  England,  not  merely  by  legal  bonds,  but 
by  indissoluble  ties  of  interest  and  affection ;  how,  in  Amer- 


14  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  On.  I. 

ica,  the  British  colonies  rapidly  became  far  mightier  and 
wealthier  than  the  realms  which  Cortes  and  Pizarro  had 
added  to  the  dominions  of  Charles  the  Fifth ;  how  in  Asia, 
British  adventurers  founded  an  empire  not  less  splendid  and 
more  durable  than  that  of  Alexander. 

Nor  will  it  be  less  my  duty  faithfully  to  record  disasters 
mingled  with  triumphs,  and  great  national  crimes  and  follies 
far  more  humiliating  than  any  disaster.  It  will  be  seen  that 
even  what  we  justly  account  our  chief  blessings  were  not 
without  alloy.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  system  which  effect- 
ually secured  our  liberties  against  the  encroachments  of  king- 
ly power  gave  birth  to  a  new  class  of  abuses  from  which  ab- 
solute monarchies  are  exempt.  It  will  be  seen  that,  in  con- 
sequence partly  of  unwise  interference,  and  partly  of  unwise 
neglect,  the  increase  of  wealth  and  the  extension  of  trade  pro- 
duced, together  with  immense  good,  some  evils  from  which 
poor  and  rude  societies  are  free.  It  will  be  seen  how,  in  two 
important  dependencies  of  the  crown,  wrong  was  followed  by 
just  retribution;  how  imprudence  and  obstinacy  broke  the 
ties  which  bound  the  North  American  colonies  to  the  parent 
state ;  how  Ireland,  cursed  by  the  domination  of  race  over 
race,  and  of  religion  over  religion,  remained  indeed  a  member 
of  the  empire,  but  a  withered  and  distorted  member,  adding 
no  strength  to  the  body  politic,  and  reproachfully  pointed  at 
by  all  who  feared  or  envied  the  greatness  of  England. 

Yet,  unless  I  greatly  deceive  myself,  the  general  effect  of 
this  checkered  narrative  will  be  to  excite  thankfulness  in  all 
religious  minds,  and  hope  in  the  breasts  of  all  patriots.  For 
the  history  of  our  country  during  the  last  hundred  and  sixty 
years  is  eminently  the  history  of  physical,  of  moral,  and  of 
intellectual  improvement.  Those  who  compare  the  age  on 
which  their  lot  has  fallen  with  a  golden  age  which  exists  only 
in  their  imagination  may  talk  of  degeneracy  and  decay :  but 
no  man  who  is  correctly  informed  as  to  the  past  will  be  dis- 
posed to  take  a  morose  or  desponding  view  of  the  present. 

I  should  very  imperfectly  execute  the  task  which  I  have 
undertaken  if  I  were  merely  to  treat  of  battles  and  sieges,  of 
the  rise  and  fall  of  administrations,  of  intrigues  in  the  palace, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  15 

and  of  debates  in  the  Parliament.  It  will  be  my  endeavor  to 
relate  the  history  of  the  people  as  well  as  the  history  of  the 
government,  to  trace  the  progress  of  useful  and  ornamental 
arts,  to  describe  the  rise  of  religious  sects  and  the  changes  of 
literary  taste,  to  portray  the  manners  of  successive  genera- 
tions, and  not  to  pass  by  with  neglect  even  the  revolutions 
which  have  taken  place  in  dress,  furniture,  repasts,  and  public 
amusements.  I  shall  cheerfully  bear  the  reproach  of  having 
descended  below  the  dignity  of  history,  if  I  can  succeed  in 
placing  before  the  English  of  the  nineteenth  century  a  true 
picture  of  the  life  of  their  ancestors. 

The  events  which  I  propose  to  relate  form  only  a  single  act 
of  a  great  and  eventful  drama  extending  through  ages,  and 
must  be  very  imperfectly  understood  unless  the  plot  of  the 
preceding  acts  be  well  known.  I  shall  therefore  introduce 
my  narrative  by  a  slight  sketch  of  the  history  of  our  country 
from  the  earliest  times.  I  shall  pass  very  rapidly  over  many 
centuries :  but  I  shall  dwell  at  some  length  on  the  vicissitudes 
of  that  contest  which  the  administration  of  King  James  the 
Second  brought  to  a  decisive  crisis.* 

Nothing  in  the  early  existence  of  Britain  indicated  the 
greatness  which,  she  was  destined  to  attain.  Her  inhabitants, 
Britain  under  when  first  they  became  known  to  the  Tyrian  mar- 
the  Romans.  {ners^  were  little  superior  to  the  natives  of  the 
Sandwich  Islands.  She  was  subjugated  by  the  Roman  arms ; 
but  she  received  only  a  faint  tincture  of  Roman  arts  and  let- 
ters. Of  the  western  provinces  which  obeyed  the  Csesars  she 
was  the  last  that  was  conquered,  and  the  first  that  was  flung 
away.  No  magnificent  remains  of  Latian  porches  and  aque- 
ducts are  to  be  found  in  Britain.  No  writer  of  British  birth 
is  reckoned  among  the  masters  of  Latian  poetry  and  eloquence. 
It  is  not  probable  that  the  islanders  were  at  any  time  gener- 

*  In  this,  and  in  the  next  chapter,  I  have  very  seldom  thought  it  necessary  to 
cite  authorities  :  for,  in  these  chapters,  I  have  not  detailed  events  minutely,  or  used 
recondite  materials ;  and  the  facts  which  I  mention  are  for  the  most  part  such 
that  a  person  tolerably  well  read  in  English  history,  if  not  already  apprised  of 
them,  will  at  least  know  where  to  look  for  evidence  of  them.  In  the  subsequent 
chapters  I  shall  carefully  indicate  the  sources  of  my  information. 


16  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

ally  familiar  with  the  tongue  of  their  Italian  rulers.  From 
the  Atlantic  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Rhine  the  Latin  has,  dur- 
ing many  centuries,  been  predominant.  It  drove  out  the 
Celtic ;  it  was  not  driven  out  by  the  Teutonic ;  and  it  is  at 
this  day  the  basis  of  the  French,  Spanish,  and  Portuguese 
languages.  In  our  island  the  Latin  appears  never  to  have 
superseded  the  old  Gaelic  speech,  and  could  not  stand  its 
ground  against  the  German. 

The  scanty  and  superficial  civilization  which  the  Britons 
had  derived  from  their  southern  masters  was  effaced  by  the 
calamities  of  the  fifth  century.  In  the  continental  kingdoms 
into  which  the  Roman  empire  was  then  dissolved,  the  con- 
querors learned  much  from  the  conquered  race.  In  Britain 
the  conquered  race  became  as  barbarous  as  the  conquerors. 

All  the  chiefs  who  founded  Teutonic  dynasties  in  the  con- 
tinental provinces  of  the  Roman  empire — Alaric,  Theodoric, 
Britain  under  Clovis,  Alboin — were  zealous  Christians.  The  fol- 
the  Saxons.  lowers  of  Ida  and  Cerdic,  on  the  other  hand, 
brought  to  their  settlements  in  Britain  all  the  superstitions 
of  the  Elbe.  While  the  German  princes  who  reigned  at 
Paris,  Toledo,  Aries,  and  Ravenna  listened  with  reverence  to 
the  instructions  of  bishops,  adored  the 'relics  of  martyrs,  and 
took  part  eagerly  in  disputes  touching  the  Nicene  theology, 
the  rulers  of  Wessex  and  Mercia  were  still  performing  savage 
rites  in  the  temples  of  Thor  and  Woden. 

The  continental  kingdoms  which  had  risen  on  the  ruins  of 
the  Western  Empire  kept  up  some  intercourse  with  those 
eastern  provinces  where  the  ancient  civilization,  thougli  slow- 
ly fading  away  under  the  influence  of  misgovernment,  might 
still  astonish  and  instruct  barbarians,  where  the  court  still  ex- 
hibited the  splendor  of  Diocletian  and  Constantine,  where  the 
public  buildings  were  still  adorned  with  the  sculptures  of  Poly- 
cletus  and  the  paintings  of  Apelles,  and  where  laborious  ped- 
ants, themselves  destitute  of  taste,  sense,  and  spirit,  could  still 
read  and  interpret  the  masterpieces  of  Sophocles,  of  Demosthe- 
nes, and  of  Plato.  From  this  communion  Britain  was  cut  off. 
Her  shores  were,  to  the  polished  race  which  dwelt  by  the  Bos- 
porus, objects  of  a  mysterious  horror,  such  as  that  with  which 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  17 

the  lonians  of  the  age  of  Homer  had  regarded  the  Straits  of 
Scylla  and  the  city  of  the  Laestrygonian  cannibals.  There 
was  one  province  of  our  island  in  which,  as  Procopius  had 
been  told,  the  ground  was  covered  with  serpents,  and  the  air 
was  such  that  no  man  could  inhale  it  and  live.  To  this  deso- 
late region  the  spirits  of  the  departed  were  ferried  over  from 
the  land  of  the  Franks  at  midnight.  A  strange  race  of  fish- 
ermen performed  the  ghastly  office.  The  speech  of  the  dead 
was  distinctly  heard  by  the  boatmen :  their  weight  made  the 
keel  sink  deep  in  the  water ;  but  their  forms  were  invisible  to 
mortal  eye.  Such  were  the  marvels  which  an  able  historian, 
the  contemporary  of  Belisarius,  of  Simplicius,  and  of  Tribo- 
nian,  gravely  related  in  the  rich  and  polite  Constantinople, 
touching  the  country  in  which  the  founder  of  Constantinople 
had  assumed  the  imperial  purple.  Concerning  all  the  other 
provinces  of  the  Western  Empire  we  have  continuous  infor- 
mation. It  is  only  in  Britain  that  an  age  of  fable  completely 
separates  two  ages  of  truth.  Odoacer  and  Totila,  Euric  and 
Thrasimund,  Clovis,  Fredegunda.  and  Brunechild,  are  histori- 
cal men  and  women.  But  Hengist  and  Horsa,Vortigern  and 
Rowena,  Arthur  and  Mordred  are  mythical  persons,  whose 
very  existence  may  be  questioned,  and  whose  adventures  must 
be  classed  with  those  of  Hercules  and  Romulus. 

At  length  the  darkness  begins  to  break ;  and  the  country 

which  had  been  lost  to  view  as  Britain  reappears  as  England. 

The  conversion  of  the  Saxon  colonists  to  Chris- 

the  saxons  to    tianitv  was  the  first  of  a  long  series  of  salutary 

Christianity.  </.  .  i/-ii 

revolutions.  It  is  true  that  the  Church  had  been 
deeply  corrupted  both  by  that  superstition  and  by  that  philos- 
ophy against  which  she  had  long  contended,  and  over  which 
she  had  at  last  triumphed.  She  had  given  a  too  easy  admis- 
sion to  doctrines  borrowed  from  the  ancient  schools,  and  to 
rites  borrowed  from  the  ancient  temples.  Roman  policy  and 
Gothic  ignorance,  Grecian  ingenuity  and  Syrian  asceticism, 
had  contributed  to  deprave  her.  Yet  she  retained  enough  of 
the  sublime  theology  and  benevolent  morality  of  her  earlier 
days  to  elevate  many  intellects,  and  to  purify  many  hearts. 
Some  things  also  which  at  a  later  period  were  justly  regarded 
I.— 2 


18  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

as  among  her  chief  blemishes  were,  in  the  seventh  century, 
and  long  afterward,  among  her  chief  merits.  That  the  sacer- 
dotal order  should  encroach  on  the  functions  of  the  civil 
magistrate  would,  in  our  time,  be  a  great  evil.  But  that 
which  in  an  age  of  good  government  is  an  evil  may,  in  an  age 
of  grossly  bad  government,  be  a  blessing.  It  is  better  that 
mankind  should  be  governed  by  wise  laws  well  administered, 
and  by  an  enlightened  public  opinion,  than  by  priestcraft :  but 
it  is  better  that  men  should  be  governed  by  priestcraft  than 
by  brute  violence,  by  such  a  prelate  as  Dunstan  than  by  such 
a  warrior  as  Penda.  A  society  sunk  in  ignorance,  and  ruled 
by  mere  physical  force,  has  great  reason  to  rejoice  when  a 
class,  of  which  the  influence  is  intellectual  arid  moral,  rises  to 
ascendency.  Such  a  class  will  doubtless  abuse  its  power :  but 
mental  power,  even  when  abused,  is  still  a  nobler  and  better 
power  than  that  which  consists  merely  in  corporeal  strength. 
We  read  in  our  Saxon  chronicles  of  tyrants,  who,  when  at  the 
height  of  greatness,  were  smitten  with  remorse,  who  abhorred 
the  pleasures  and  dignities  which  they  had  purchased  by 
guilt,  who  abdicated  their  crowns,  and  who  sought  to  atone 
for  their  offences  by  cruel  penances  and  incessant  prayers. 
These  stories  have  drawn  forth  bitter  expressions  of  contempt 
from  some  writers  who,  while  they  boasted  of  liberality,  were 
in  truth  as  narrow-minded  as  any  monk  of  the  Dark  Ages, 
and  whose  habit  was  to  apply  to  all  events  in  the  history  of 
the  world  the  standard  received  in  the  Parisian  society  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  Yet  surely  a  system  which,  however  de- 
formed by  superstition,  introduced  strong  moral  restraints  into 
communities  previously  governed  only  by  vigor  of  muscle  and 
by  audacity  of  spirit,  a  system  which  taught  the  fiercest  and 
mightiest  ruler  that  he  was,  like  his  meanest  bondman,  a  re- 
sponsible being,  might  have  seemed  to  deserve  a  more  respect- 
ful mention  from  philosophers  and  philanthropists. 

The  same  observations  will  apply  to  the  contempt  with 
which,  in  the  last  century,  it  was  fashionable  to  speak  of  the 
pilgrimages,  the  sanctuaries,  the  crusades,  and  the  monastic 
institutions  of  the  Middle  Ages.  In  times  when  men  were 
scarcely  ever  induced  to  travel  by  liberal  curiosity,  or  by  the 


C.H.L  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  19 

pursuit  of  gain,  it  was  better  that  the  rude  inhabitant  of  the 
North  should  visit  Italy  and  the  East  as  a  pilgrim,  than  that 
he  should  never  see  anything  but  those  squalid  cabins  and 
uncleared  woods  amidst  which  he  was  born.  In  times  when 
life  and  when  female  honor  were  exposed  to  daily  risk  from 
tyrants  and  marauders,  it  was  better  that  the  precinct  of  a 
shrine  should  be  regarded  with  an  irrational  awe,  than  that 
there  should  be  no  refuge  inaccessible  to  cruelty  and  licen- 
tiousness. In  times  when  statesmen  were  incapable  of  form- 
ing extensive  political  combinations,  it  was  better  that  the 
Christian  nations  should  be  roused  and  united  for  the  recov- 
ery of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  than  that  they  should,  one  by  one, 
be  overwhelmed  by  the  Mohammedan  power.  Whatever  re- 
proach may,  at  a  later  period,  have  been  justly  thrown  on  the 
indolence  and  luxury  of  religious  orders,  it  was  surely  good 
that,  in  an  age  of  ignorance  and  violence,  there  should  be 
quiet  cloisters  and  gardens,  in  which  the  arts  of  peace  could 
be  safely  cultivated,  in  which  gentle  and  contemplative  nat- 
ures could  find  an  asylum,  in  which  one  brother  could  employ 
himself  in  transcribing  the  ^Eneid  of  Virgil,  and  another  in 
meditating  the  Analytics  of  Aristotle,  in  which  he  who  had  a 
genius  for  art  might  illuminate  a  martyrology  or  carve  a  cru- 
cifix, and  in  which  he  who  had  a  turn  for  natural  philosophy 
might  make  experiments  on  the  properties  of  plants  and  min- 
erals. Had  not  such  retreats  been  scattered  here  and  there, 
among  the  huts  of  a  miserable  peasantry  and  the  castles  of  a 
ferocious  aristocracy,  European  society  would  have  consisted 
merely  of  beasts  of  burden  and  beasts  of  prey.  The  Church 
has  many  times  been  compared  by  divines  to  the  ark  of  which 
we  read  in  the  Book  of  Genesis :  but  never  was  the  resem- 
blance more  perfect  than  during  that  evil  time  when  she  alone 
rode,  amidst  darkness  and  tempest,  on  the  deluge  beneath 
which  all  the  great  works  of  ancient  power  and  wisdom  lay 
entombed,  bearing  within  her  that  feeble  germ  from  which  a 
second  and  more  glorious  civilization  was  to  spring. 

Even  the  spiritual  supremacy  arrogated  by  the  Pope  was, 
in  the  Dark  Ages,  productive  of  far  more  good  than  evil. 
Its  effect  was  to  unite  the  nations  of  Western  Europe  in  one 


20  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  i. 

great  commonwealth.  What  the  Olympian  chariot  course  and 
the  Pythian  oracle  were  to  all  the  Greek  cities,  from  Treb- 
isond  to  Marseilles,  Home  and  her  Bishop  were  to  all  Chris- 
tians of  the  Latin  communion,  from  Calabria  to  the  Hebrides. 
Thus  grew  up  sentiments  of  enlarged  benevolence.  Races 
separated  from  each  other  by  seas  and  mountains  acknowl- 
edged a  fraternal  tie  and  a  common  code  of  public  law. 
Even  in  war,  the  cruelty  of  the  conqueror  was  not  seldom 
mitigated  by  the  recollection  that  he  and  his  vanquished 
enemies  were  all  members  of  one  great  federation. 

Into  this  federation  our  Saxon  ancestors  were  no\v  admit- 
ted. A  regular  communication  was  opened  between  our 
shores  and  that  part  of  Europe  in  which  the  traces  of  ancient 
power  and  policy  were  yet  discernible.  Many  noble  monu- 
ments which  have  since  been  destroyed  or  defaced  still  re- 
tained their  pristine  magnificence  ;  and  travellers,  to  whom 
Livy  and  Sallust  were  unintelligible,  might  gain  from  the 
Roman  aqueducts  and  temples  some  faint  notion  of  Roman 
history.  The  dome  of  Agrippa,  still  glittering  with  bronze, 
the  mausoleum  of  Adrian,  not  yet  deprived  of  its  columns 
and  statues,  the  Flavian  amphitheatre,  not  yet  degraded  into 
a  quarry,  told  to  the  rude  English  pilgrims  some  part  of  the 
story  of  that  great  civilized  world  which  had  passed  away. 
The  islanders  returned,  with  awe  deeply  impressed  on  their 
half -opened  minds,  and  told  the  wondering  inhabitants  of 
the  hovels  of  London  and  York  that,  near  the  grave  of  Saint 
Peter,  a  mighty  race,  now  extinct,  had  piled  up  buildings 
which  would  never  be  dissolved  till  the  judgment-day.  Learn- 
ing followed  in  the  train  of  Christianity.  The  poetry  and 
eloquence  of  the  Augustan  Age  were  assiduously  studied  in 
Mercian  and  Northumbrian  monasteries.  The  names  of  Bede 
and  Alcuin  were  justly  celebrated  throughout  Europe.  Such 
was  the  state  of  our  country  when,  in  the  ninth  century,  be- 
gan the  last  great  migration  of  the  northern  barbarians. 

During  many  years  Denmark  and  Scandinavia  continued 

Danish  inva-     *°   pour  forth   innumerable   pirates,  distinguished 

by  strength,  by  valor,  by  merciless  ferocity,  and  by 

hatred  of  the  Christian  name.     No  country  suffered  so  much 


CH.  I.  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  21 

from  these  invaders  as  England.  Her  coast  lay  near  to  the 
ports  whence  they  sailed ;  nor  was  any  shire  so  far  distant 
from  the  sea  as  to  be  secure  from  attack.  The  same  atroci- 
ties which  had  attended  the  victory  of  the  Saxon  over  the 
Celt  were  now,  after  the  lapse  of  ages,  suffered  by  the  Saxon 
at  the  hand  of  the  Dane.  Civilization,  just  as  it  began  to 
rise,  was  met  by  this  blow,  and  sank  down  once  more.  Large 
colonies  of  adventurers  from  the  Baltic  established  themselves 
on  the  eastern  shores  of  our  island,  spread  gradually  west- 
ward, and,  supported  by  constant  re  -  enforcements  from  be- 
yond the  sea,  aspired  to  the  dominion  of  the  whole  realm. 
The  struggle  between  the  two  fierce  Teutonic  breeds  lasted, 
through  six  generations.  Each  was  alternately  paramount. 
Cruel  massacres  followed  by  cruel  retribution,  provinces 
wasted,  convents  plundered,  and  cities  razed  to  the  ground, 
make  up  the  greater  part  of  the  history  of  those  evil  days. 
At  length  the  North  ceased  to  send  forth  a  constant  stream 
of  fresh  depredators;  and  from  that  time  the  mutual  aver- 
sion of  the  races  began  to  subside.  Intermarriage  became, 
frequent.  The  Danes  learned  the  religion  of  the  Saxons ;  and 
thus  one  cause  of  deadly  animosity  was  removed.  The  Da- 
nish and  Saxon  tongues,  both  dialects  of  one  wide-spread  lan- 
guage, were  blended  together.  But  the  distinction  between 
the  two  nations  was  by  no  means  effaced,  when  an  event  took 
place  which  prostrated  both,  in  common  slavery  and  degra- 
dation, at  the  feet  of  a  third  people. 

The  Normans  were  then  the  foremost  race  of  Christen- 
dom.    Their  valor  and  ferocity  had  made  them  conspicuous 
among  the  rovers  whom  Scandinavia  had  sent  forth 

The  Normans.  . 

to  ravage  Western  Europe.  Their  sails  were  long 
the  terror  of  both  coasts  of  the  Channel.  Their  arms  were 
repeatedly  carried  far  into  the  heart  of  the  Carlovingian  em- 
pire, and  were  victorious  under  the  walls  of  Maestricht  and 
Paris.  At  length  one  of  the  feeble  heirs  of  Charlemagne 
ceded  to  the  strangers  a  fertile  province,  watered  by  a  noble 
river,  and  contiguous  to  the  sea  which  was  their  favorite  ele- 
ment. In  that  province  they  founded  a  mighty  state,  which 
gradually  extended  its  influence  over  the  neighboring  princi- 


22  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Ce.  I. 

palities  of  Brittany  and  Maine.  Without  laying  aside  that 
dauntless  valor  which  had  been  the  terror  of  every  land  from 
the  Elbe  to  the  Pyrenees,  the  Normans  rapidly  acquired  all, 
and  more  than  all,  the  knowledge  and  refinement  which  they 
found  in  the  country  where  they  settled.  Their  courage  se- 
cured their  territory  against  foreign  invasion.  They  estab- 
lished internal  order,  such  as  had  long  been  unknown  in  the 
Frank  empire.  They  embraced  Christianity ;  and  with  Chris- 
tianity they  learned  a  great  part  of  what  the  clergy  had  to 
teach.  They  abandoned  their  native  speech,  and  adopted  the 
French  tongue,  in  which  the  Latin  was  the  predominant  ele- 
ment.  They  speedily  raised  their  new  language  to  a  dignity 
and  importance  which  it  had  never  before  possessed.  They 
found  it  a  barbarous  jargon ;  they  fixed  it  in  writing ;  and 
they  employed  it  in  legislation,  in  poetry,  and  in  romance. 
They  renounced  that  brutal  intemperance  to  which  all  the 
other  branches  of  the  great  German  family  were  too  much 
inclined.  The  polite  luxury  of  the  Norman  presented  a  strik- 
ing contrast  to  the  coarse  voracity  and  drunkenness  of  his 
Saxon  and  Danish  neighbors.  He  loved  to  display  his  mag- 
nificence, not  in  huge  piles  of  food  and  hogsheads  of  strong 
drink,  but  in  large  and  stately  edifices,  rich  armor,  gallant 
horses,  choice  falcons,  well-ordered  tournaments,  banquets 
delicate  rather  than  abundant,  and  "wines  remarkable  rather 
for  their  exquisite  flavor  than  for  their  intoxicating  power. 
That  chivalrous  spirit,  which  has  exercised  so  powerful  an 
influence  on  the  politics,  morals,  and  manners  of  all  the  Euro- 
pean nations,  was  found  in  the  highest  exaltation  among  the 
Norman  nobles.  Those  nobles  wrere  distinguished  by  their 
graceful  bearing  and  insinuating  address.  They  were  distin- 
guished also  by  their  skill  in  negotiation,  and  by  a  natural  elo- 
quence which  they  assiduously  cultivated.  It  was  the  boast 
of  one  of  their  historians  that  the  Norman  gentlemen  were 
orators  from  the  cradle.  But  their  chief  fame  was  derived 
from  their  military  exploits.  Every  country,  from  the  At- 
lantic Ocean  to  the  Dead  Sea,  witnessed  the  prodigies  of  their 
discipline  and  valor.  One  Norman  knight,  at  the  head  of  a 
handful  of  warriors,  scattered  the  Celts  of  Connaught.  An- 


CH.I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  23 

other  founded  the  monarchy  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  and  saw  the 
emperors  both  of  the  East  and  of  the  West  fly  before  his  arms. 
A  third,  the  Ulysses  of  the  first  crusade,  was  invested  by  his 
fellow-soldiers  with  the  sovereignty  of  Antioch  ;  and  a  fourth, 
the  Tancred  whose  name  lives  in  the  great  poem  of  Tasso, 
was  celebrated  through  Christendom  as  the  bravest  and  most 
generous  of  the  deliverers  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

The  vicinity  of  so  remarkable  a  people  early  began  to  pro- 
duce an  effect  on  the  public  mind  of  England.  Before  the 
Conquest,  English  princes  received  their  education  in  Nor- 
mandy. English  sees  and  English  estates  were  bestowed  on 
Nornlans.  The  French  of  Normandy  was  familiarly  spoken 
in  the  palace  of  Westminster.  The  court  of  Rouen  seems 
to  have  been  to  the  court  of  Edward  the  Confessor  what  the 
court  of  Versailles  long  afterward  was  to  the  court  of  Charles 
the  Second. 

The  battle  of  Hastings,  and  the  events  which  followed  it, 
not  only  placed  a  Duke  of  Normandy  on  the  English  throne, 
The  Norman  but  gave  up  the  whole  population  of  England  to  the 
conquest.  tyranny  of  the  Norman  race.  The  subjugation  of 
a  nation  by  a  nation  has  seldom,  even  in  Asia,  been  more  com- 
plete. The  country  was  portioned  out  among  the  captains  of 
the  invaders.  Strong  military  institutions,  closely  connected 
with  the  institution  of  property,  enabled  the  foreign  conquer- 
ors to  oppress  the  children  of  the  soil.  A  cruel  penal  code, 
cruelly  enforced,  guarded  the  privileges,  and  even  the  sports, 
of  the  alien  tyrants.  Yet  the  subject  race,  though  beaten 
down  and  trodden  underfoot,  still  made  its  sting  felt.  Some 
bold  men,  the  favorite  heroes  of  our  oldest  ballads,  betook 
themselves  to  the  woods,  and  there,  in  defiance  of  curfew  laws 
arid  forest  laws,  waged  a  predatory  war  against  their  oppress- 
ors. Assassination  was  an  event  of  daily  occurrence.  Many 
Normans  suddenly  disappeared,  leaving  no  trace.  The  corpses 
of  many  were  found  bearing  the  marks  of  violence.  Death 
by  torture  was  denounced  against  the  murderers,  and  strict 
search  was  made  for  them,  but  generally  in  vain ;  for  the 
whole  nation  was  in  a  conspiracy  to  screen  them.  It  was  at 
length  thought  necessary  to  lay  a  heavy  fine  on  every  hun- 


24  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

dred  in  which  a  person  of  French  extraction  should  be  found 
slain  ;  and  this  regulation  was  followed  up  by  another  regula- 
tion, providing  that  every  person  who  was  found  slain  should 
be  supposed  to  be  a  Frenchman,  unless  he  was  proved  to  be 
a  Saxon. 

During  the  century  and  a  half  which  followed  the  Con- 
quest, there  is,  to  speak  strictly,  no  English  history.  The 
French  Kings  of  England  rose,  indeed,  to  an  eminence  which 
was  the  wonder  and  dread  of  all  neighboring  nations.  They 
conquered  Ireland.  They  received  the  homage  of  Scotland. 
By  their  valor,  by  their  policy,  by  their  fortunate  matrimoni- 
al alliances,  they  became  far  more  powerful  on  the  Continent 
than  their  liege  lords  the  Kings  of  France.  Asia,  as  well  as 
Europe,  was  dazzled  by  the  power  and  glory  of  our  tyrants. 
Arabian  chroniclers  recorded  with  unwilling  admiration  the 
fall  of  Acre,  the  defence  of  Joppa,  and  the  victorious  march 
to  Ascalon ;  and  Arabian  mothers  long  awed  their  infants  to 
silence  with  the  name  of  the  lion-hearted  Plantagenet.  At 
one  time  it  seemed  that  the  line  of  Hugh  Capet  was  about 
to  end  as  the  Merovingian  and  Carlovingian  lines  had  ended, 
and  that  a  single  great  monarchy  would  spread  from  the  Ork- 
neys to  the  Pyrenees.  So  strong  an  association  is  established 
in  most  minds  between  the  greatness  of  a  sovereign  and  the 
greatness  of  the  nation  which  he  rules,  that  almost  every  his- 
torian of  England  has  expatiated  with  a  sentiment  of  exulta- 
tion on  the  power  and  splendor  of  her  foreign  masters,  and 
has  lamented  the  decay  of  that  power  and  splendor  as  a  ca- 
lamity to  our  country.  This  is,  in  truth,  as  absurd  as  it  would 
be  in  a  Haytian  negro  of  our  time  to  dwell  with  national 
pride  on  the  greatness  of  Lewis  the  Fourteenth,  and  to  speak 
of  Blenheim  and  Ramilies  with  patriotic  regret  and  shame. 
The  Conqueror  and  his  descendants  to  the  fourth  generation 
were  not  Englishmen :  most  of  them  were  born  in  France : 
they  spent  the  greater  part  of  their  lives  in  France :  their  or- 
dinary speech  was  French  :  almost  every  high  office  in  their 
gift  was  filled  by  a  Frenchman :  every  acquisition  which  they 
made  on  the  Continent  estranged  them  more  and  more  from 
the  population  of  our  island.  One  of  the  ablest  among  them, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  25 

indeed,  attempted  to  win  the  hearts  of  his  English  subjects  by 
espousing  an  English  princess.  But,  by  many  of  his  barons, 
this  marriage  was  regarded  as  a  marriage  between  a  white 
planter  and  a  quadroon  girl  would  now  be  regarded  in  Vir- 
ginia. In  history  he  is  known  by  the  honorable  surname  of 
Beauclere ;  but,  in  his  own  time,  his  own  countrymen  called 
him  by  a  Saxon  nickname,  in  contemptuous  allusion  to  his 
Saxon  connection. 

Had  the  Plantagenets,  as  at  one  time  seemed  likely,  succeed- 
ed in  uniting  all  France  under  their  government,  it  is  proba- 
ble that  England  would  never  have  had  an  independent  exist- 
ence. Her  princes,  her  lords,  her  prelates,  would  have  been 
men  differing  in  race  and  language  from  the  artisans  and  the 
tillers  of  the  earth.  The  revenues  of  her  great  proprietors 
would  have  been  spent  in  festivities  and  diversions  on  the 
banks  of  the  Seine.  The  noble  language  of  Milton  and  Burke 
would  have  remained  a  rustic  dialect,  without  a  literature,  a 
fixed  grammar,  or  a  fixed  orthography,  and  would  have  been 
contemptuously  abandoned  to  the  use  of  boors.  No  man  of 
English  extraction  would  have  risen  to  eminence,  except  by 
becoming  in  speech  and  habits  a  Frenchman. 

England  owes  her  escape  from  such  calamities  to  an  event 

which  her  historians  have  generally  represented  as  disastrous. 

Her  interest  was  so  directly  opposed  to  the  interest 

Separation  of  "       L  L 

England  and     of  her  rulers  that  she  had  no  hope  but  in  their  er- 

Normandy.  x 

rors  and  misfortunes.  The  talents  and  even  the 
virtues  of  her  first  six  French  kings  were  a  curse  to  her. 
The  follies  and  vices  of  the  seventh  were  her  salvation.  Had 
John  inherited  the  great  qualities  of  his  father,  of  Henry 
Beauclerc,  or  of  the  Conqueror,  nay,  had  he  even  possessed 
the  martial  courage  of  Stephen  or  of  Richard,  and  had  the 
King  of  France  at  the  same  time  been  as  incapable  as  all  the 
other  successors  of  Hugh  Capet  had  been,  the  House  of  Plan- 
tagenet  must  have  risen  to  unrivalled  ascendency  in  Europe. 
But,  just  at  this  conjuncture,  France,  for  the  first  time  since 
the  death  of  Charlemagne,  was  governed  by  a  prince  of  great 
firmness  and  ability.  On  the  other  hand,  England,  which, 
since  the  battle  of  Hastings,  had  been  ruled  generally  by  wise 


26  HISTOKY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

statesmen,  always  by  brave  soldiers,  fell  under  the  dominion 
of  a  trifler  and  a  coward.  From  that  moment  her  prospects 
brightened.  John  was  driven  from  Normandy.  The  Nor- 
man nobles  were  compelled  to  make  their  election  between 
the  island  and  the  Continent.  Shut  up  by  the  sea  with  the 
people  whom  they  had  hitherto  oppressed  and  despised,  they 
gradually  came  to  regard  England  as  their  country,  and  the 
English  as  their  countrymen.  The  two  races,  so  long  hostile, 
soon  found  that  they  had  common  interests  and  common  en- 
emies. Both  were  alike  aggrieved  by  the  tyranny  of  a  bad 
king.  Both  were  alike  indignant  at  the  favor  shown  by  the 
court  to  the  natives  of  Poitou  and  Aquitaine.  The  great- 
grandsons  of  those  who  had  fought  under  William,  and  the 
great-grandsons  of  those  who  had  fought  under  Harold,  be- 
gan to  draw  near  to  each  other  in  friendship ;  and  the  first 
pledge  of  their  reconciliation  was  the  Great  Charter,  won 
by  their  united  exertions,  and  framed  for  their  common 
benefit. 

Here  commences  the  history  of  the  English  nation.  The 
history  of  the  preceding  events  is  the  history  of  wrongs  in- 
Amateama-  flicted  and  sustained  by  various  tribes,  which  in- 
tion  of  races.  deed  &ft  ^we^t  on  English  ground,  but  which  re- 
garded each  other  with  aversion  such  as  has  scarcely  ever  ex- 
isted between  communities  separated  by  physical  barriers. 
For  even  the  mutual  animosity  of  countries  at  Avar  with  each 
other  is  languid  when  compared  with  the  animosity  of  nations 
which,  morally  separated,  are  yet  locally  intermingled.  In  no 
country  has  the  enmity  of  race  been  carried  farther  than  in 
England.  In  no  country  has  that  enmity  been  more  com- 
pletely effaced.  The  stages  of  the  process  by  which  the  hos- 
tile elements  were  melted  down  into  one  homogeneous  mass 
are  not  accurately  known  to  us.  But  it  is  certain  that,  when 
John  became  king,  the  distinction  between  Saxons  and  Nor- 
mans was  strongly  marked,  and  that  before  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  his  grandson  it  had  almost  disappeared.  In  the  time 
of  Richard  the  First,  the  ordinary  imprecation  of  a  Norman 
gentleman  was,  "  May  I  become  an  Englishman  !"  His  ordi- 
nary form  of  indignant  denial  was,  "  Do  you  take  me  for  an 


On.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  27 


Englishman  ?"  The  descendant  of  such  a  gentleman  a  hun- 
dred years  later  was  proud  of  the  English  name. 

The  sources  of  the  noblest  rivers  which  spread  fertility 
over  continents,  and  bear  richly  laden  fleets  to  the  sea,  are  to 
be  sought  in  wild  and  barren  mountain  tracts,  incorrectly  laid 
down  in  maps,  and  rarely  explored  by  travellers.  To  such  a 
tract  the  history  of  our  country  during  the  thirteenth  century 
may  not  unaptly  be  compared.  Sterile  and  obscure  as  is  that 
portion  of  our  annals,  it  is  there  that  we  must  seek  for  the 
origin  of  our  freedom,  our  prosperity,  and  our  glory.  Then 
it  was  that  the  great  English  people  was  formed,  that  the  na- 
tional character  began  to  exhibit  those  peculiarities  which  it 
has  ever  since  retained,  and  that  our  fathers  became  emphat- 
ically islanders,  islanders  not  merely  in  geographical  position, 
but  in  their  politics,  their  feelings,  and  their  manners.  Then 
first  appeared  with  distinctness  that  constitution  which  has 
ever  since,  through  all  changes,  preserved  its  identity ;  that 
constitution  of  which  all  the  other  free  constitutions  in  the 
world  are  copies,  and  which,  in  spite  of  some  defects,  deserves 
to  be  regarded  as  the  best  under  which  any  great  society  has 
ever  yet  existed  during  many  ages.  Then  it  was  that  the 
House  of  Commons,  the  archetype  of  all  the  representative 
assemblies  which  now  meet,  either  in  the  old  or  in  the  new 
world,  held  its  first  sittings.  Then  it  was  that  the  common 
lawrose  to  the  dignity  of  a  science,  and  rapidly  became  a  not 
unworthy  rival  of  the  imperial  jurisprudence.  Then  it  was 
that  the  courage  of  those  sailors  who  manned  the  rude  barks 
of  the  Cinque  Ports  first  made  the  flag  of  England  terrible 
on  the  seas.  Then  it  was  that  the  most  ancient  colleges  which 
still  exist  at  both  the  great  national  seats  of  learning  were 
founded.  Then  was  formed  that  language,  less  musical  in- 
deed than  the  languages  of  the  South,  but  in  force,  in  rich- 
ness, in  aptitude  for  all  the  highest  purposes  of  the  poet,  the 
philosopher,  and  the  orator,  inferior  to  the  tongue  of  Greece 
alone.  Then,  too,  appeared  the  first  faint  dawn  of  that  noble 
literature,  the  most  splendid  and  the  most  durable  of  the 
many  glories  of  England. 

Early  in  the  fourteenth  century  the  amalgamation  of  the 


28  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

races  was  all  but  complete ;  and  it  was  soon  made  manifest, 
by  signs  not  to  be  mistaken,  that  a  people  inferior  to  none 
existing  in  the  world  had  been  formed  by  the  mixture  of 
three  branches  of  the  great  Teutonic  family  with  each  other, 
and  with  the  aboriginal  Britons.  There  was,  indeed,  scarcely 
anything  in  common  between  the  England  to  which  John 
had  been  chased  by  Philip  Augustus,  and  the  England  from 
which  the  armies  of  Edward  the  Third  went  forth  to  conquer 
France. 

A  period  of  more  than  a  hundred  years  followed,  during 

which  the  chief  object  of  the  English  was  to  establish,  by 

force  of  arms,  a  great  empire  on  the  Continent. 

English  con-  Vs  i  • 

quests  on  the    The  claim  of  Edward  to  the  inheritance  occupied 

Continent.  .  ,.,. 

by  the  House  of  Valois  was  a  claim  in  winch  it 
might  seem  that  his  subjects  were  little  interested.  But  the 
passion  for  conquest  spread  fast  from  the  prince  to  the  peo- 
ple. The  war  differed  widely  from,  the  wars  which  the  Plan- 
tagenets  of  the  twelfth  century  had  waged  against  the  de- 
scendants of  Hugh  Capet.  For  the  success  of  Henry  the 
Second,  or  of  Richard  the  First,  would  have  made  England 
a  province  of  France.  The  effect  of  the  successes  of  Edward 
the  Third  and  Henry  the  Fifth  was  to  make  France,  for  a 
time,  a  province  of  England.  The  disdain  with  which,  in  the 
twelfth  century,  the  conquerors  from  the  Continent  had  re- 
garded the  islanders,  was  now  retorted  by  the  islanders  on  the 
people  of  the  Continent.  Every  yeoman  from  Kent  to  Nor- 
thumberland valued  himself  as  one  of  a  race  born  for  victory 
and  dominion,  and  looked  down  with  scorn  on  the  nation  be- 
fore which  his  ancestors  had  trembled.  Even  those  knights 
of  Gascony  and  Guienne  who  had  fought  gallantly  under  the 
Black  Prince  were  regarded  by  the  English  as  men  of  an  in- 
ferior breed,  and  were  contemptuously  excluded  from  honor- 
able and  lucrative  commands.  In  no  long  time  our  ancestors 
altogether  lost  sight  of  the  original  ground  of  quarrel.  They 
began  to  consider  the  crown  of  France  as  a  mere  appendage 
to  the  crown  of  England ;  and  when,  in  violation  of  the  ordi- 
nary law  of  succession,  they  transferred  the  crown  of  England 
to  the  House  of  Lancaster,  they  seem  to  have  thought  that 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  29 

the  right  of  Richard  the  Second  to  the  crown  of  France  pass- 
ed, as  of  course,  to  that  house.  The  zeal  and  vigor  which 
they  displayed  present  a  remarkable  contrast  to  the  torpor  of 
the  French,  who  were  far  more  deeply  interested  in  the  event 
of  the  struggle.  The  most  splendid  victories  recorded  in  the 
history  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  gained  at  this  time,  against 
great  odds,  by  the  English  armies.  Yictories  indeed  they 
were,  of  which  a  nation  may  justly  be  proud ;  for  they  are  to 
be  attributed  to  the  moral  superiority  of  the  victors,  a  supe- 
riority which  was  most  striking  in  the  lowest  ranks.  The 
knights  of  England  found  worthy  rivals  in  the  knights  of 
France.  Chandos  encountered  an  equal  foe  in  Da  Guesclin. 
But  France  had  no  infantry  that  dared  to  face  the  English 
bows  and  bills.  A  French  king  was  brought  prisoner  to 
London.  An  English  king  was  crowned  at  Paris.  The  ban- 
ner of  Saint  George  was  carried  far  beyond  the  Pyrenees  and 
the  Alps.  On  the  south  of  the  Ebro  the  English  won  a  great 
battle,  which  for  a  time  decided  the  fate  of  Leon  and  Castile ; 
and  the  English  Companies  obtained  a  terrible  pre-eminence 
among  the  bands  of  warriors  who  let  out  their  weapons  for 
hire  to  the  princes  and  commonwealths  of  Italy. 

Nor  were  the  arts  of  peace  neglected  by  our  fathers  during 
that  stirring  period.  While  France  was  wasted  by  war,  till 
she  at  length  found  in  her  own  desolation  a  miserable  de- 
fence against  invaders,  the  English  gathered  in  their  harvests, 
adorned  their  cities,  pleaded,  traded,  and  studied  in  security. 
Many  of  our  noblest  architectural  monuments  belong  to  that 
age.  Then  rose  the  fair  chapels  of  New  College  and  of  Saint 
George,  the  nave  of  Winchester  and  the  choir  of  York,  the 
spire  of  Salisbury  and  the  majestic  towers  of  Lincoln.  A  co- 
pious and  forcible  language,  formed  by  an  infusion  of  French 
into  German,  was  now  the  common  property  of  the  aristocracy 
and  of  the  people.  Nor  was  it  long  before  genius  began  to 
apply  that  admirable  machine  to  worthy  purposes.  While 
English  warriors,  leaving  behind  them  the  devastated  prov- 
inces of  France,  entered  Yalladolid  in  triumph,  and  spread 
terror  to  the  gates  of  Florence,  English  poets  depicted  in 
vivid  tints  all  the  wide  variety  of  human  manners  and  fort- 


30  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

unes,  and  English  thinkers  aspired  to  know,  or  dared  to  doubt, 
where  bigots  had  been  content  to  wonder  and  to  believe. 
The  same  age  which  produced  the  Black  Prince  and  Derby, 
Chandos  and  Hawkwood,  produced  also  Geoffrey  Chaucer 
and  John  Wyclilfe. 

In  so  splendid  and  imperial  a  manner  did  the  English  peo- 
ple, properly  so  called,  lirst  take  place  among  the  nations  of 
the  world.  Yet  while  we  contemplate  with  pleasure  the 
high  and  commanding  qualities  which  our  forefathers  dis- 
played, we  cannot  but  admit  that  the  end  which  they  pursued 
was  an  end  condemned  both  by  humanity  and  by  enlightened 
policy,  and  that  the  reverses  which  compelled  them,  after 
a  long  and  bloody  struggle,  to  relinquish  the  hope  of  estab- 
lishing a  great  continental  empire,  were  really  blessings  in 
the  guise  of  disasters.  The  spirit  of  the  French  was  at  last 
aroused  :  they  began  to  oppose  a  vigorous  national  resist- 
ance to  the  foreign  conquerors ;  and  from  that  time  the  skill 
of  the  English  captains  and  the  courage  of  the  English  sol- 
diers were,  happily  for  mankind,  exerted  in  vain.  After 
many  desperate  struggles,  and  with  many  bitter  regrets,  our 
ancestors  gave  up  the  contest.  Since  that  age  no  British 
government  has  ever  seriously  and  steadily  pursued  the  de- 
sign of  making  great  conquests  on  the  Continent.  The  peo- 
ple, indeed,  continued  to  cherish  with  pride  the  recollection 
of  Cressy,  of  Poitiers,  and  of  Agincourt.  Even  after  the 
lapse  of  many  years,  it  was  easy  to  fire  their  blood  and  to 
draw  forth  their  subsidies  by  promising  them  an  expedition 
for  the  conquest  of  France.  But  happily  the  energies  of  our 
country  have  been  directed  to  better  objects;  and  she  now 
occupies  in  the  history  of  mankind  a  place  far  more  glorious 
than  if  she  had,  as  at  one  time  seemed  not  improbable,  ac- 
quired by  the  sword  an  ascendency  similar  to  that  which  for- 
merly belonged  to  the  Roman  republic. 

Cooped  up  once  more  within  the  limits  of  the  island,  the 

warlike  people  employed  in  civil  strife  those  arms  which  had 

wars  of  the      been  the  terror  of  Europe.     The  means  of  profuse 

expenditure  had  long  been  drawn  by  the  English 

barons  from  the  oppressed  provinces  of  France.     That  source 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  31 

of  supply  was  gone :  but  the  ostentatious  and  luxurious  hab- 
its which  prosperity  had  engendered  still  remained ;  and  the 
great  lords,  unable  to  gratify  their  tastes  by  plundering  the 
French,  were  eager  to  plunder  each  other.  The  realm  to 
which  they  were  now  confined  wrould  not,  in  the  phrase  of 
Cornines,  the  most  judicious  observer  of  that  time,  suffice  for 
them  all.  Two  aristocratical  factions,  headed  by  two  branches 
of  the  royal  family,  engaged  in  a  long  and  fierce  struggle  for 
supremacy.  As  the  animosity  of  those  factions  did  not  really 
arise  from  the  dispute  about  the  succession,  it  lasted  long  af- 
ter all  ground  of  dispute  about  the  succession  was  removed. 
The  party  of  the  Red  Rose  survived  the  last  prince  who 
claimed  the  crown  in  right  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  The  party 
of  the  White  Rose  survived  the  marriage  of  Richmond  and 
Elizabeth.  Left  without  chiefs  who  had  any  decent  show  of 
right,  the  adherents  of  Lancaster  rallied  round  a  line  of  bas- 
tards, and  the  adherents  of  York  set  up  a  succession  of  impos- 
tors. When,  at  length,  many  aspiring  nobles  had  perished  on 
the  field  of  battle  or  by  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  when 
many  illustrious  houses  had  disappeared  forever  from  history, 
when  those  great  families  which  remained  had  been  exhaust- 
ed and  sobered  by  calamities,  it  was  universally  acknowledged 
that  the  claims  of  all  the  contending  Plantagenets  were  united 
in  the  House  of  Tudor. 

Meanwhile  a  change  was  proceeding  infinitely  more  me>- 
Extinction  of  mentous  than  the  acquisition  or  loss  of  any  prov- 
ince, than  the  rise  or  fall  of  any  dynasty.  Slavery 
and  the  evils  by  which  slavery  is  everywhere  accompanied 
were  fast  disappearing. 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  two  greatest  and  most  salutary 
social  revolutions  which  have  taken  place  in  England,  that 
revolution  which,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  put  an  end  to  the 
tyranny  of  nation  over  nation,  and  that  revolution  which,  a 
few  generations  later,  put  an  end  to  the  property  of  man  in 
map,  were  silently  and  imperceptibly  effected.  They  struck 
contemporary  observers  with  no  surprise,  and  have  received 
from  historians  a  very  scanty  measure  of  attention.  They 
were  brought  about  neither  by  legislative  regulation  nor  by 


32  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

physical  force.  Moral  causes  noiselessly  effaced  first  the  dis- 
tinction between  Norman  and  Saxon,  and  then  the  distinction 
between  master  and  slave.  None  can  venture  to  fix  the  pre- 
cise moment  at  which  either  distinction  ceased.  Some  faint 
traces  of  the  old  Norman  feeling  might  perhaps  have  been 
found  late  in  the  fourteenth  century.  Some  faint  traces  of 
the  institution  of  villeinage  were  detected  by  the  curious  so 
late  as  the  days  of  the  Stuarts ;  nor  has  that  institution  ever, 
to  this  hour,  been  abolished  by  statute. 

It  would  be  most  unjust  not  to  acknowledge  that  the  chief 
agent  in  these  two  great  deliverances  was  religion ;  and  it 
Beneficial  op-  inaj  perhaps  be  doubted  whether  a  purer  religion 
oration  onhe  not  have  been  found  a  less  efficient  agent. 


Koinan  Catuo- 


HC  religion.  Tjie  benevolent  spirit  of  the  Christian  morality  is 
undoubtedly  adverse  to  distinctions  of  caste.  But  to  the 
Church  of  Rome  such  distinctions  are  peculiarly  odious ;  for 
they  are  incompatible  with  other  distinctions  which  are  es- 
sential to  her  system.  She  ascribes  to  every  priest  a  myste- 
rious dignity  which  entitles  him  to  the  reverence  of  every 
layman ;  and  she  does  riot  consider  any  man  as  disqualified, 
by  reason  of  his  nation  or  of  his  family,  for  the  priesthood. 
Her  doctrines  respecting  the  sacerdotal  character,  however 
erroneous  they  may  be,  have  repeatedly  mitigated  some  of 
the  worst  evils  which  can  afflict  society.  That  superstition 
cannot  be  regarded  as  nnmixedly  noxious  which,  in  regions 
cursed  by  the  tyranny  of  race  over  race,  creates  an  aristoc- 
racy altogether  independent  of  race,  inverts  the  relation  be- 
tween the  oppressor  and  the  oppressed,  and  compels  the  he- 
reditary master  to  kneel  before  the  spiritual  tribunal  of  the 
hereditary  bondman.  To  this  day,  in  some  countries  where 
negro  slavery  exists,  Popery  appears  in  advantageous  con- 
trast to  other  forms  of  Christianity.  It  is  notorious  that  the 
antipathy  between  the  European  and  African  races  is  by  no 
means  so  strong  at  Rio  Janeiro  as  at  Washington.  In  our 
own  country,  this  peculiarity  of  the  Roman  Catholic  system 
produced,  during  the  Middle  Ages,  many  salutary  effects.  It 
is  true  that,  shortly  after  the  battle  of  Hastings,  Saxon  prel- 
ates and  abbots  were  violently  deposed,  and  that  ecclesiastical 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  33 

adventurers  from  the  Continent  were  intruded  by  hundreds 
into  lucrative  benefices.  Yet  even  then  pious  divines  of  Nor- 
man blood  raised  their  voices  against  such  a  violation  of  the 
constitution  of  the  Church,  refused  to  accept  mitres  from  the 
hands  of  William,  and  charged  him,  on  the  peril  of  his  soul, 
not  to  forget  that  the  vanquished  islanders  were  his  fellow- 
Christians.  The  first  protector  whom  the  English  found 
among  the  dominant  caste  was  Archbishop  Anselm.  At  a 
time  when  the  English  name  was  a  reproach,  and  when  all 
the  civil  and  military  dignities  of  the  kingdom  were  sup- 
posed to  belong  exclusively  to  the  countrymen  of  the  Con- 
queror, the  despised  race  learned,  with  transports  of  delight, 
that  one  of  themselves,  Nicholas  Breakspear,  had  been  ele- 
vated to  the  papal  throne,  and  had  held  out  his  foot  to  be 
kissed  by  ambassadors  sprung  from  the  noblest  houses  of 
Normandy.  It  was  a  national  as  well  as  a  religious  feeling 
that  drew  great  multitudes  to  the  shrine  of  Becket,  whom 
they  regarded  as  the  enemy  of  their  enemies.  Whether  he 
was  a  Norman  or  a  Saxon  may  be  doubted ;  but  there  is  no 
doubt  that  he  perished  by  Norman  hands,  and  that  the  Sax- 
ons cherished  his  memory  with  peculiar  tenderness  and  vener- 
ation, and,  in  their  popular  poetry,  represented  him  as  one  of 
their  own  race.  A  successor  of  Becket  was  foremost  among 
the  refractory  magnates  who  obtained  that  charter  which  se- 
cured the  privileges  both  of  the  Norman  barons  and  of  the 
Saxon  yeomanry.  How  great  a  part  the  Roman  Catholic 
ecclesiastics  subsequently  had  in  the  abolition  of  villeinage 
we  learn  from  the  unexceptionable  testimony  of  Sir  Thomas 
Smith,  one  of  the  ablest  Protestant  counsellors  of  Elizabeth. 
When  the  dying  slave-holder  asked  for  the  last  sacraments, 
his  spiritual  attendants  regularly  adjured  him,  as  he  loved  his 
soul,  to  emancipate  his  brethren  for  whom  Christ  had  died. 
So  successfully  had  the  Church  used  her  formidable  machin- 
ery that,  before  the  Reformation  came,  she  had  enfranchised 
almost  all  the  bondmen  in  the  kingdom  except  her  own,  who, 
to  do  her  justice,  seem  to  have  been  very  tenderly  treated. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  when  these  two  great  revolu- 
tions had  been  effected,  our  forefathers  were  by  far  the  best 

I.—3 


34  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

governed  people  in  Europe.  During  three  hundred  years 
the  social  system  had  been  in  a  constant  course  of  improve- 
ment. Under  the  first  Plantagenets  there  had  been  barons 
able  to  bid  defiance  to  the  sovereign,  and  peasants  degraded 
to  the  level  of  the  swine  and  oxen  which  they  tended.  The 
exorbitant  power  of  the  baron  had  been  gradually  reduced. 
The  condition  of  the  peasant  had  been  gradually  elevated. 
Between  the  aristocracy  and  the  working  people  had  sprung 
up  a  middle  class,  agricultural  and  commercial.  There  was 
still,  it  may  be,  more  inequality  than  is  favorable  to  the  hap- 
piness and  virtue  of  our  species :  but  no  man  was  altogether 
above  the  restraints  of  law ;  and  no  man  was  altogether  be- 
low its  protection. 

That  the  political  institutions  of  England  were,  at  this 
early  period,  regarded  by  the  English  with  pride  and  affec- 
tion, and  by  the  most  enlightened  men  of  neighboring  na- 
tions with  admiration  and  envy,  is  proved  by  the  clearest  ev- 
idence. But  touching  the  nature  of  those  institutions  there 
has  been  much  dishonest  and  acrimonious  controversy. 

The  historical  literature  of  England  has  indeed  suffered 
grievously  from  a  circumstance  which  has  not  a  little  con- 
tributed to  her  prosperity.  The  change,  great  as  it 

The  early  Eng-     .  +.        *    '  *  •  , 

lish  polity  of-     is  which  her  polity  has  undergone  during  the  last 

ten  misrepre-         /  •          »  i  7^  -, 

sented.and  six  centuries,  has  been  the  effect  oi  gradual  de- 
why. 

velopment,  not  of  demolition  and  reconstruction. 

The  present  constitution  of  our  country  is,  to  the  constitution 
under  which  she  flourished  five  hundred  years  ago,  what  the 
tree  is  to  the  sapling,  what  the  man  is  to  the  boy.  The  al- 
teration has  been  great.  Yet  there  never  was  a  moment  at 
which  the  chief  part  of  what  existed  was  not  old.  A  polity 
thus  formed  must  abound  in  anomalies.  But  for  the  evils 
arising  from  mere  anomalies  we  have  ample  compensation. 
Other  societies  possess  written  constitutions  more  symmetri- 
cal. But  no  other  society  has  yet  succeeded  in  uniting  revo- 
lution with  prescription,  progress  with  stability,  the  energy  of 
youth  with  the  majesty  of  immemorial  antiquity. 

This  great  blessing,  however,  has  its  drawbacks :  and  one 
of  those  drawbacks  is  that  every  source  of  information  as  to 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  35 

our  early  history  has  been  poisoned  by  party  spirit.  As  there 
is  no  country  where  statesmen  have  been  so  much  under  the 
influence  of  the  past,  so  there  is  no  country  where  historians 
have  been  so  much  under  the  influence  of  the  present.  Be- 
tween these  two  things,  indeed,  there  is  a  natural  connection. 
Where  history  is  regarded  merely  as  a  picture  of  life  and 
manners,  or  as  a  collection  of  experiments  from  which  gener- 
al maxims  of  civil  wisdom  may  be  drawn,  a  writer  lies  under 
no  very  pressing  temptation  to  misrepresent  transactions  of 
ancient  date.  But  where  history  is  regarded  as  a  repository 
of  title-deeds,  on  which  the  rights  of  governments  and  nations 
depend,  the  motive  to  falsification  becomes  almost  irresistible. 
A  Frenchman  is  not  now  impelled  by  any  strong  interest  ei- 
ther to  exaggerate  or  to  underrate  the  power  of  the  kings  of 
the  House  of  Yalois.  The  privileges  of  the  States-general,  of 
the  States  of  Brittany,  of  the  States  of  Burgundy,  are  to  him 
matters  of  as  little  practical  importance  as  the  constitution 
of  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim  or  of  the  Amphictyonic  Council. 
The  gulf  of  a  great  revolution  completely  separates  the  new 
from  the  old  system.  ~No  such  chasm  divides  the  existence 
of  the  English  nation  into  two  distinct  parts.  Our  laws  and 
customs  have  never  been  lost  in  general  and  irreparable  ruin. 
With  us  the  precedents  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  still  valid  prec- 
edents, and  are  still  cited,  on  the  gravest  occasions,  by  the 
most  eminent  statesmen.  For  example,  when  King  George 
the  Third  was  attacked  by  the  malady  which  made  him  in- 
capable of  performing  his  regal  functions,  and  when  the  most 
distinguished  lawyers  and  politicians  differed  widely  as  to  the 
course  which  ought,  in  such  circumstances,  to  be  pursued,  the 
Houses  of  Parliament  would  not  proceed  to  discuss  any  plan 
of  regency  till  all  the  precedents  which  were  to  be  found  in 
our  annals,  from  the  earliest  times,  had  been  collected  and  ar- 
ranged. Committees  were  appointed  to  examine  the  ancient 
records  of  the  realm.  The  first  case  reported  was  that  of  the 
year  1217 :  much  importance  was  attached  to  the  cases  of 
1326,  of  1377,  and  of  1422 :  but  the  case  which  was  justly 
considered  as  most  in  point  was  that  of  1455.  Thus  in  our 
country  the  dearest  interests  of  parties  have  frequently  been 


36  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

staked  on  the  results  of  the  researches  of  antiquaries.  The 
inevitable  consequence  was  that  our  antiquaries  conducted 
their  researches  in  the  spirit  of  partisans. 

It  is,  therefore,  not  surprising  that  those  who  have  written 
concerning  the  limits  of  prerogative  and  liberty  in  the  old 
polity  of  England  should  generally  have  shown  the  temper, 
not  of  judges,  but  of  angry  and  uncandid  advocates.  For 
they  were  discussing,  not  a  speculative  matter,  but  a  matter 
which  had  a  direct  and  practical  connection  with  the  most 
momentous  and  exciting  disputes  of  their  own  day.  From 
the  commencement  of  the  long  contest  between  the  Parlia- 
ment arid  the  Stuarts  down  to  the  time  when  the  pretensions 
of  the  Stuarts  ceased  to  be  formidable,  few  questions  were 
practically  more  important  than  the  question  whether  the  ad- 
ministration of  that  family  had  or  had  not  been  in  accord- 
ance with  the  ancient  constitution  of  the  kingdom.  This 
question  could  be  decided  only  by  reference  to  the  records  of 
preceding  reigns.  Bracton  and  Fleta,  the  Mirror  of  Justice 
and  the  Rolls  of  Parliament,  were  ransacked  to  find  pretexts 
for  the  excesses  of  the  Star-chamber  on  one  side,  and  of  the 
High  Court  of  Justice  on  the  other.  During  a  long  course 
of  years  every  Whig  historian  was  anxious  to  prove  that  the 
old  English  government  was  all  but  republican,  every  Tory 
historian  to  prove  that  it  wyas  all  but  despotic. 

-With  such  feelings,  both  parties  looked  into  the  chronicles 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  Both  readily  found  what  they  sought; 
and  both  obstinately  refused  to  see  anything  but  what  they 
sought.  The  champions  of  the  Stuarts  could  easily  point  out 
instances  of  oppression  exercised  on  the  subject.  The  de- 
fenders of  the  Roundheads  could  as  easily  produce  instances 
of  determined  and  successful  resistance  offered  to  the  crown. 
The  Tories  quoted,  from  ancient  writings,  expressions  almost 
as  servile  as  were  heard  from  the  pulpit  of  Mainwaring. 
The  Whigs  discovered  expressions  as  bold  and  severe  as  any 
that  resounded  from  the  judgment-seat  of  Bradshaw.  One 
set  of  writers  adduced  numerous  instances  in  which  kings 
had  extorted  money  without  the  authority  of  Parliament. 
Another  set  cited  cases  in  which  the  Parliament  had  assumed 


Cii.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  37 

to  itself  the  power  of  inflicting  punishment  on  kings.  Those 
who  saw  only  one  half  of  the  evidence  would  have  concluded 
that  the  Plantagenets  were  as  absolute  as  the  Sultans  of  Tur- 
key :  those  who  saw  only  the  other  half  would  have  con- 
cluded that  the  Plantagenets  had  as  little  real  power  as  the 
Doges  of  Venice ;  and  both  conclusions  would  have  been 
equally  remote  from  the  truth. 

The  old  English  government  was  one  of  a  class  of  limited 
monarchies  which  sprang  up  in  Western  Europe  during  the 
Nature  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  which,  notwithstanding  many  di- 
archies of°the  versities,  bore  to  one  another  a  strong  family  like- 
Middle  Ages.  ness>  That  there  should  have  been  such  a  likeness 
is  not  strange.  The  countries  in  which  those  monarchies 
arose  had  been  provinces  of  the  same  great  civilized  empire, 
and  had  been  overrun  and  conquered,  about  the  same  time, 
by  tribes  of  the  same  rude  and  warlike  nation.  They  were 
members  of  the  same  great  coalition  against  Islam.  They 
were  in  communion  with  the  same  superb  and  ambitious 
Church.  Their  polity  naturally  took  the  same  form.  They 
had  institutions  derived  partly  from  imperial  Rome,  partly 
from  papal  Home,  partly  from  the  old  Germany.  All  had 
kings ;  and  in  all  the  kingly  office  became  by  degrees  strictly 
hereditary.  All  had  nobles  bearing  titles  which  had  original- 
ly indicated  military  rank.  The  dignity  of  knighthood,  the 
rules  of  heraldry,  were  common  to  all.  All  had  richly  endow- 
ed ecclesiastical  establishments,  municipal  corporations  enjoy- 
ing large  franchises,  and  senates  whose  consent  was  necessary 
to  the  validity  of  some  public  acts. 

Of  these  kindred  constitutions  the  English  was,  from  an 

early  period,  justly  reputed  the  best.     The  prerogatives  of 

the  sovereign  were  undoubtedly  extensive.      The 

Prerogatives  of         .    .         .       ...  -     ,  •    •.       <•     i  •       i 

the  early  Kng-  spirit  ot  religion  and  the  spirit  ot  chivalry  concur- 
red to  exalt  his  dignity.  The  sacred  oil  had  been 
poured  on  his  head.  It  was  no  disparagement  to  the  bravest 
and  noblest  knights  to  kneel  at  his  feet.  His  person  was  in- 
violable. He  alone  was  entitled  to  convoke  the  estates  of  the 
realm  :  he  could  at  his  pleasure  dismiss  them  ;  and  his  assent 
was  necessary  to  all  their  legislative  acts.  He  was  the  chief 


38  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

of  the  executive  administration,  the  sole  organ  of  communica- 
tion with  foreign  powers,  the  captain  of  the  military  and  naval 
forces  of  the  state,  the  fountain  of  justice,  of  mercy,  and  of 
honor.  He  had  large  powers  for  the  regulation  of  trade.  It 
was  by  him  that  money  was  coined,  that  weights  and  meas- 
ures were  fixed,  that  marts  and  havens  were  appointed.  His 
ecclesiastical  patronage  was  immense.  His  hereditary  reve- 
nues, economically  administered,  sufficed  to  meet  the  ordinary 
charges  of  government.  His  own  domains  were  of  vast  ex- 
tent. He  was  also  feudal  lord  paramount  of  the  whole  soil  of 
his  kingdom,  and,  in  that  capacity,  possessed  many  lucrative 
and  many  formidable  rights,  which  enabled  him  to  annoy  and 
depress  those  who  thwarted  him,  and  to  enrich  and  aggran- 
dize, without  any  cost  to  himself,  those  who  enjoyed  his  favor. 
But  his  power,  though  ample,  was  limited  by  three  great 
constitutional  principles,  so  ancient  that  none  can 

Limitations  of  . 

the  preroga-  say  when  they  began  to  exist,  so  potent  that  their 
natural  development,  continued  through  many  gen- 
erations, has  produced  the  order  of  things  under  which  we 
now  live. 

First,  the  King  could  not  legislate  without  the  consent  of 
his  Parliament.  Secondly,  he  could  impose  no  tax  without 
the  consent  of  his  Parliament.  Thirdly,  he  was  bound  to  con- 
duct the  executive  administration  according  to  the  laws  of  the 
land,  and,  if  he  broke  those  laws,  his  advisers  and  his  agents 
were  responsible. 

No  candid  Tory  will  deny  that  these  principles  had,  five 
hundred  years  ago,  acquired  the  authority  of  fundamental 
rules.  On  the  other  hand,  no  candid  Whig  will  affirm  that 
they  were,  till  a  later  period,  cleared  from  all  ambiguity,  or 
followed  out  to  all  their  consequences.  A  constitution  of  the 
Middle  Ages  was  not,  like  a  constitution  of  the  eighteenth  or 
nineteenth  century,  created  entire  by  a  single  act,  and  fully 
set  forth  in  a  single  document.  It  is  only  in  a  refined  and 
speculative  age  that  a  polity  is  constructed  on  system.  In 
rude  societies  the  progress  of  government  resembles  the  prog- 
ress of  language  and  of  versification.  Rude  societies  have 
language,  and  often  copious  and  energetic  language ;  but  they 


Cu.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  39 

have  no  scientific  grammar,  no  definitions  of  nonris  and  verbs, 
no  names  for  declensions,  moods,  tenses,  and  voices.  Rude 
societies  have  versification,  and  often  versification  of  great 
power  and  sweetness :  but  they  have  no  metrical  canons ;  and 
the  minstrel  whose  numbers,  regulated  solely  by  his  ear,  are 
the  delight  of  his  audience,  would  himself  be  unable  to  say  of 
how  many  dactyls  and  trochees  each  of  his  lines  consists.  As 
eloquence  exists  before  syntax,  and  song  before  prosody,  so 
government  may  exist  in  a  high  degree  of  excellence  long  be- 
fore the  limits  of  legislative,  executive,  and  judicial  power 
have  been  traced  with  precision. 

It  was  thus  in  our  country.  The  line  which  bounded  the 
royal  prerogative,  though  in  general  sufficiently  clear,  had 
not  everywhere  been  drawn  with  accuracy  and  distinctness. 
There  was,  therefore,  near  the  border  some  debatable  ground 
on  which  incursions  and  reprisals  continued  to  take  place, 
till,  after  ages  of  strife,  plain  and  durable  landmarks  were  at 
length  set  up.  It  may  be  instructive  to  note  in  what  way, 
and  to  what  extent,  our  ancient  sovereigns  were  in  the  habit 
of  violating  the  three  great  principles  by  which  the  liberties 
of  the  nation  were  protected. 

No  English  king  has  ever  laid  claim  to  the  general  legis- 
lative power.  The  most  violent  and  imperious  Plantagenet 
never  fancied  himself  competent  to  enact,  without  the  con- 
sent of  his  great  council,  that  a  jury  should  consist  of  ten 
persons  instead  of  twelve,  that  a  widow's  dower  should  be  a 
fourth  part  instead  of  a  third,  that  perjury  should  be  a  felony, 
or  that  the  custom  of  gavelkind  should  be  introduced  into 
Yorkshire.*  But  the  King  had  the  power  of  pardoning  of- 
fenders ;  and  there  is  one  point  at  which  the  power  of  pardon- 
ing and  the  power  of  legislating  seem  to  fade  into  each  other, 
and  may  easily,  at  least  in  a  simple  age,  be  confounded.  A 
penal  statute  is  virtually  annulled  if  the  penalties  which  it 
imposes  are  regularly  remitted  as  often  as  they  are  incurred. 
The  sovereign  was  undoubtedly  competent  to  remit  penalties 


*  This  is  excellently  put  by  Mr.  Hallam  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  Constitutional 
History. 


40  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  L 

without  limit.  He  was,  therefore,  competent  to  annul  virtu- 
ally a  penal  statute.  It  might  seem  that  there  could  be  no 
serious  objection  to  his  doing  formally  what  he  might  do  virt- 
ually. Thus,  with  the  help  of  subtle  and  courtly  lawyers, 
grew  up,  on  the  doubtful  frontier  which  separates  executive 
from  legislative  functions,  that  great  anomaly  known  as  the 
dispensing  power. 

That  the  King  could  not  impose  taxes  without  the  consent 
of  Parliament  is  admitted  to  have  been,  from  time  immemo- 
rial, a  fundamental  law  of  England.  It  was  among  the  arti- 
cles which  John  wras  compelled  by  the  Barons  to  sign.  Ed- 
ward the  First  ventured  to  break  through  the  rule ;  but  able, 
powerful,  and  popular  as  he  was,  he  encountered  an  opposi- 
tion to  which  he  found  it  expedient  to  yield.  He  covenanted 
accordingly  in  express  terms,  for  himself  and  his  heirs,  that 
they  would  never  again  levy  any  aid  without  the  assent  and 
good -will  of  the  estates  of  the  realm.  His  powerful  and  vic- 
torious grandson  attempted  to  violate  this  solemn  compact ; 
but  the  attempt  was  strenuously  withstood.  At  length  the 
Plantagenets  gave  up  the  point  in  despair ;  but,  though  they 
ceased  to  infringe  the  law  openly,  they  occasionally  contrived, 
by  evading  it,  to  procure  an  extraordinary  supply  for  a  tem- 
porary purpose.  They  were  interdicted  from  taxing;  but 
they  claimed  the  right  of  begging  and  borrowing.  They 
therefore  sometimes  begged  in  a  tone  not  easily  to  be  distin- 
guished from  that  of  command,  and  sometimes  borrowed  with 
small  thought  of  repaying.  But  the  fact  that  they  thought 
it  necessary  to  disguise  their  exactions  under  the  names  of  be- 
nevolences and  loans  sufficiently  proves  that  the  authority  of 
the  great  constitutional  rule  was  universally  recognized. 

The  principle  that  the  King  of  England  was  bound  to  con- 
duct the  administration  according  to  law,  and  that,  if  he  did 
anything  against  law,  his  advisers  and  agents  were  answera- 
ble, was  established  at  a  very  early  period,  as  the  severe  judg- 
ments pronounced  and  executed  on  many  royal  favorites  suf- 
ficiently prove.  It  is,  however,  certain  that  the  rights  of  in- 
dividuals were  often  violated  by  the  Plantagenets,  and  that 
the  injured  parties  were  often  unable  to  obtain  redress.  Ac- 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  41 

cording  to  law,  no  Englishman  could  be  arrested  or  detained 
in  confinement  merely  by  the  mandate  of  the  sovereign.  In 
fact,  persons  obnoxious  to  the  government  were  frequently 
imprisoned  without  any  other  authority  than  a  royal  order. 
According  to  law,  torture,  the  disgrace  of  the  Roman  juris- 
prudence, could  not,  in  any  circumstances,  be  inflicted  on  an 
English  subject.  Nevertheless,  during  the  troubles  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  a  rack  was  introduced  into  the  Tower,  and 
was  occasionally  used  under  the  plea  of  political  necessity. 
But  it  would  be  a  great  error  to  infer  from  such  irregularities 
that  the  English  monarchs  were,  either  in  theory  or  in  prac- 
tice, absolute.  We  live  in  a  highly  civilized  society,  through 
which  intelligence  is  so  rapidly  diffused  by  means  of  the 
press  and  of  the  post-office  that  any  gross  act  of  oppression 
committed  in  any  part  of  our  island  is,  in  a  few  hours,  dis- 
cussed by  millions.  If  the  sovereign  were  now  to  immure  a 
subject  in  defiance  of  the  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus,  or  to  put  a 
conspirator  to  the  torture,  the  whole  nation  would  be  instant- 
ly electrified  by  the  news.  In  the  Middle  Ages  the  state  of 
society  was  widely  different.  Rarely  and  with  great  diffi- 
culty did  the  wrongs  of  individuals  come  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  public.  A  man  might  be  illegally  confined  during 
many  months  in  the  castle  of  Carlisle  or  Norwich,  and  no 
whisper  of  the  transaction  might  reach  London.  It  is  highly 
probable  that  the  rack  had  been  many  years  in  use  before  the 
great  majority  of  the  nation  had  the  least  suspicion  that  it 
was  ever  employed.  JSTor  were  our  ancestors  by  any  means 
so  much  alive  as  we  are  to  the  importance  of  maintaining 
great  general  rules.  We  have  been  taught  by  long  experi- 
ence that  we  cannot  without  danger  suffer  any  breach  of  the 
constitution  to  pass  unnoticed.  It  is,  therefore,  now  univer- 
sally held  that  a  government  which  unnecessarily  exceeds  its 
powers  ought  to  be  visited  with  severe  parliamentary  censure, 
and  that  a  government  which,  under  the  pressure  of  a  great 
exigency,  and  with  pure  intentions,  has  exceeded  its  powers, 
ought  without  delay  to  apply  to  Parliament  for  an  act  of  in- 
demnity. But  such  were  not  the  feelings  of  the  Englishmen 
of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries.  They  were  little 


42  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

disposed  to  contend  for  a  principle  merely  as  a  principle,  or 
to  cry  out  against  an  irregularity  which  was  not  also  i'elt  to 
be  a  grievance.  As  long  as  the  general  spirit  of  the  admin- 
istration was  mild  and  popular,  they  were  willing  to  allow 
some  latitude  to  their  sovereign.  If,  for  ends  generally  ac- 
knowleged  to  be  good,  he  exerted  a  vigor  beyond  the  law, 
they  not  only  forgave,  but  applauded  him,  and,  while  they 
enjoyed  security  and  prosperity  under  his  rule,  were  but  too 
ready  io  believe  that  whoever  had  incurred  his  displeasure 
had  deserved  it.  But  to  this  indulgence  there  was  a  limit ; 
nor  was  that  king  wise  who  presumed  far  on  the  forbearance 
of  the  English  people.  They  might  sometimes  allow  him  to 
overstep  the  constitutional  line ;  but  they  also  claimed  the 
privilege  of  overstepping  that  line  themselves,  whenever  his 
encroachments  were  so  serious  as  to  excite  alarm.  If,  not 
content  with  occasionally  oppressing  individuals,  he  dared  to 
oppress  great  masses,  his  subjects  promptly  appealed  to  the 
laws,  and,  that  appeal  failing,  appealed  as  promptly  to  the 
God  of  battles. 

Our  forefathers  might  indeed  safely  tolerate  a  king  in  a 

few  excesses;  for  they  had  in  reserve  a  check  which  soon 

brought  the  fiercest  and  proudest  king  to  reason — 

ordinary  cheek  the  check  of  physical  force.     It  is  difficult  for  an 

on  tyranny  in     _,       , .   .  ,,     ,  ,  . 

the  Middle  Jinglisliman  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  imagine 
to  himself  the  facility  and  rapidity  with  which, 
four  hundred  years  ago,  this  check  was  applied.  The  people 
have  long  unlearned  the  use  of  arms.  The  art  of  war  has 
been  carried  to  a  perfection  unknown  to  former  ages;  and 
the  knowledge  of  that  art  is  confined  to  a  particular  class.  A 
hundred  thousand  soldiers,  well  disciplined  and  commanded, 
will  keep  down  ten  millions  of  ploughmen  and  artisans.  A 
few  regiments  of  household  troops  are  sufficient  to  overawe 
all  the  discontented  spirits  of  a  large  capital.  In  the  mean 
time  the  effect  of  the  constant  progress  of  wealth  has  been 
to  make  insurrection  far  more  terrible  to  thinking  men  than 
maladministration.  Immense  sums  have  been  expended  on 
works  which,  if  a  rebellion  broke  out,  might  perish  in  a  few 
hours.  The  mass  of  movable  wealth  collected  in  the  shops 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  43 

and  warehouses  of  London  alone  exceeds  five  hundred  -  fold 
that  which  the  whole  island  contained  in  the  days  of  the  Plan- 
tagenets;  and,  if  the  government  were  subverted  by  physical 
force,  all  this  movable  wealth  would  be  exposed  to  imminent 
risk  of  spoliation  and  destruction.  Still  greater  would  be  the 
risk  to  public  credit,  on  which  thousands  of  families  direct- 
ly depend  for  subsistence,  and  with  which  the  credit  of  the 
whole  commercial  world  is  inseparably  connected.  It  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  a  civil 'war  of  a  week  on  English 
ground  would  now  produce  disasters  which  would  be  felt 
from  the  Hoangho  to  the  Missouri,  and  of  which  the  traces 
would  be  discernible  at  the  distance  of  a  century.  In  such  a 
state  of  society  resistance  must  be  regarded  as  a  cure  more 
desperate  than  almost  any  malady  which  can  afflict  the  state. 
In  the  Middle  Ages,  on  the  contrary,  resistance  was  an  ordi- 
nary remedy  for  political  distempers — a  remedy  which  was 
always  at  hand,  and  which,  though  doubtless  sharp  at  the  mo- 
ment, produced  no  deep  or  lasting  ill  effects.  If  a  popular 
chief  raised  his  standard  in  a  popular  cause,  an  irregular  army 
could  be  assembled  in  a  day.  Regular  army  there  was  none. 
Every  man  had  a  slight  tincture  of  soldiership,  and  scarcely 
any  man  more  than  a  slight  tincture.  The  national  wealth 
consisted  chiefly  in  flocks  and  herds,  in  the  harvest  of  the 
year,  and  in  the  simple  buildings  inhabited  by  the  people. 
All  the  furniture,  the  stock  of  shops,  the  machinery  which 
could  be  found  in  the  realm,  was  of  less  value  than  the  prop- 
erty which  some  single  parishes  now  contain.  Manufactures 
were  rude ;  credit  was  almost  unknown.  Society,  therefore, 
recovered  from  the  shock  as  soon  as  the  actual  conflict  was 
over.  The  calamities  of  civil  war  were  confined  to  the 
slaughter  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  to  a  few  subsequent  ex- 
ecutions and  confiscations.  In  a  week  the  peasant  was  driv- 
ing his  team  and  the  esquire  flying  his  hawks  over  the  field 
of  Towton  or  of  Bosworth,  as  if  no  extraordinary  event  had 
interrupted  the  regular  course  of  human  life. 

More  than  a  hundred  and  sixty  years  have  now  elapsed 
since  the  English  people  have  by  force  subverted  a  govern- 
ment. During  the  hundred  and  sixty  years  which  preceded 


44  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

the  union  of  the  Roses,  nine  kings  reigned  in  England.  Six 
of  these  nine  kings  were  deposed.  Five  lost  their  lives  as 
well  as  their  crowns.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  any  com- 
parison between  our  ancient  and  our  modern  polity  must  lead 
to  most  erroneous  conclusions,  unless  large  allowance  be  made 
for  the  effect  of  that  restraint  which  resistance  and  the  fear 
of  resistance  constantly  imposed  on  the  Plantagenets.  As 
our  ancestors  had  against  tyranny  a  most  important  security 
which  we  want,  they  might  safely  dispense  with  some  securi- 
ties to  which  we  justly  attach  the  highest  importance.  As 
we  cannot,  without  the  risk  of  evils  from  which  the  imagina- 
tion recoils,  employ  physical  force  as  a  check  on  misgovern- 
ment,  it  is  evidently  our  wisdom  to  keep  all  the  constitutional 
checks  on  misgovernment  in  the  highest  state  of  efficiency, 
to  watch  with  jealousy  the  first  beginnings  of  encroachment, 
and  never  to  suffer  irregularities,  even  when  harmless  in 
themselves,  to  pass  unchallenged,  lest  they  acquire  the  force 
of  precedents.  Four  hundred  years  ago  such  minute  vigi- 
lance might  well  seem  unnecessary.  A  nation  of  hardy  arch- 
ers and  spearmen  might,  with  small  risk  to  its  liberties,  con- 
nive at  some  illegal  acts  on  the  part  of  a  prince  whose  gen- 
eral administration  was  good,  and  whose  throne  was  not  de- 
fended by  a  single  company  of  regular  soldiers. 

Under  this  system,  rude  as  it  may  appear  when  compared 
with  those  elaborate  constitutions  of  which  the  last  seventy 
years  have  been  fruitful,  the  English  long  enjoyed  a  large 
measure  of  freedom  and  happiness.  Though,  during  the  fee- 
ble reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  the  state  was  torn,  first  by 
factions,  and  at  length  by  civil  war;  though  Edward  the 
Fourth  was  a  prince  of  dissolute  and  imperious  character; 
though  Richard  the  Third  has  generally  been  represented  as 
a  monster  of  depravity ;  though  the  exactions  of  Henry  the 
Seventh  caused  great  repining — it  is  certain  that  our  ancestors, 
under  those  kings,  were  far  better  governed  than  the  Belgians 
under  Philip,  surnamed  the  Good,  or  the  French  under  that 
Lewis  who  was  styled  the  Father  of  his  people.  Even  while 
the  wars  of  the  Roses  were  actually  raging,  our  country  ap- 
pears to  have  been  in  a  happier  condition  than  the  neighbor 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  45 

ing  realms  during  years  of  profound  peace.  Comines  was 
one  of  the  most  enlightened  statesmen  of  his  time.  He  had 
seen  all  the  richest  and  most  highly  civilized  parts  of  the  Con- 
tinent. He  had  lived  in  the  opulent  towns  of  Flanders,  the 
Manchesters  and  Liverpools  of  the  fifteenth  century.  He  had 
visited  Florence,  recently  adorned  by  the  magnificence  of 
Lorenzo,  and  Venice,  not  yet  humbled  by  the  confederates  of 
Cambray.  This  eminent  man*  deliberately  pronounced  Eng- 
land to  be  the  best  governed  country  of  which  he  had  any 
knowledge.  Her  constitution  he  emphatically  designated  as 
a  just  and  holy  thing,  which,  while  it  protected  the  people, 
really  strengthened  the  hands  of  a  prince  who  respected  it. 
In  no  other  country,  he  said,  were  men  so  effectually  secured 
from  wrong.  The  calamities  produced  by  our  intestine  wars 
seemed  to  him  to  be  confined  to  the  nobles  and  the  fighting 
men,  and  to  leave  no  traces  such  as  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  see  elsewhere,  no  ruined  dwellings,  no  depopulated  cities. 

It  was  not  only  by  the  efficiency  of  the  restraints  imposed 
on  the  royal  prerogative  that  England  was  advantageously 
peculiar  char-  distinguished  from  most  of  the  neighboring  coun- 
£i£ii°h  arts-  tries-  A  peculiarity  equally  important,  though  less 
noticed,  was  the  relation  in  which  the  nobility  stood 
here  to  the  commonalty.  There  was  a  strong  hereditary  aris- 
tocracy ;  but  it  was  of  all  hereditary  aristocracies  the  least  in- 
Solent  and  exclusive.  It  had  none  of  the  invidious  character 
of  a  caste.  It  was  constantly  receiving  members  from  the 
people,  and  constantly  sending  down  members  to  mingle  with 
the  people.  Any  gentleman  might  become  a  peer.  The 
younger  son  of  a  peer  was  but  a  gentleman.  Grandsons  of 
peers  yielded  precedence  to  newly  made  knights.  The  digni- 
ty of  knighthood  was  not  beyond  the  reach  of  any  man  who 
could  by  diligence  and  thrift  realize  a  good  estate,  or  who 
could  attract  notice  by  his  valor  in  a  battle  or  a  siege.  It  was 
regarded  as  no  disparagement  for  the  daughter  of  a  duke,  nay, 
of  a  royal  duke,  to  espouse  a  distinguished  commoner.  Thus, 
Sir  John  Howard  married  the  daughter  of  Thomas  Mowbray, 
Duke  of  Norfolk.  Sir  Richard  Pole  married  the  Countess 
of  Salisbury,  daughter  of  George,  Duke  of  Clarence.  Good 


46  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

blood  was  indeed  held  in  high  respect:  but  between  good 
blood  and  the  privileges  of  peerage  there  was,  most  fortu- 
nately for  our  country,  no  necessary  connection.  Pedigrees  as 
long,  and  scutcheons  as  old,  were  to  be  found  out  of  the  House 
of  Lords  as  in  it.  There  were  new  men  who  bore  the  highest 
titles.  There  were  untitled  men  well  known  to  be  descended 
from  knights  who  had  broken  the  Saxon  ranks  at  Hastings, 
and  scaled  the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  There  were  Bohuns,  Mow- 
brays,  De  Veres,  nay,  kinsmen  of  the  House  of  Plantagenet, 
with  no  higher  addition  than  that  of  esquire,  and  with  no 
civil  privileges  beyond  those  enjoyed  by  every  farmer  and 
shopkeeper.  There  Avas,  therefore,  here  no  line  like  that 
which  in  some  other  countries  divided  the  patrician  from  the 
plebeian.  The  yeoman  was  not  inclined  to  murmur  at  dig- 
nities to  which  his  own  children  might  rise.  The  grandee 
was  not  inclined  to  insult  a  class  into  which  his  own  children 
must  descend. 

After  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster,  the  links  which  con- 
nected the  nobility  and  the  commonalty  became  closer  and 
more  numerous  than  ever.  The  extent  of  the  destruction 
which  had  fallen  on  the  old  aristocracy  may  be  inferred  from 
a  single  circumstance.  In  the  year  1451  Henry  the  Sixth 
summoned  fifty -three  temporal  lords  to  Parliament.  The 
temporal  lords  summoned  by  Henry  the  Seventh  to  the  Par- 
liament of  1485  were  only  twenty-nine,  and  of  these  several 
had  recently  been  elevated  to  the  peerage.  During  the  fol- 
lowing century  the  ranks  of  the  nobility  were  largely  recruit- 
ed from  among  the  gentry.  The  constitution  of  the  House  of 
Commons  tended  greatly  to  promote  the  salutary  intermixture 
of  classes.  The  knight  of  the  shire  was  the  connecting  link 
between  the  baron  and  the  shopkeeper.  On  the  same  benches 
on  which  sat  the  goldsmiths,  drapers,  and  grocers,  who  had 
been  returned  to  Parliament  by  the  commercial  towns,  sat  also 
members  who,  in  any  other  country,  would  have  been  called 
noblemen,  hereditary  lords  of  manors,  entitled  to  hold  courts 
and  to  bear  coat -armor,  and  able  to  trace  back  an  honora- 
ble descent  through  many  generations.  Some  of  them  were 
younger  sons  and  brothers  of  lords.  Others  could  boast  of 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  47 

even  royal  blood.  At  length  the  eldest  son  of  an  Earl  of 
Bedford,  called  in  courtesy  by  the  second  title  of  his  father, 
offered  himself  as  candidate  for  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, and  his  example  was  followed  by  others.  Seated  in 
that  house,  the  heirs  of  the  great  peers  naturally  became  as 
zealous  for  its  privileges  as  any  of  the  humble  burgesses  with 
whom  they  were  mingled.  Thus  our  democracy  was,  from 
an  early  period,  the  most  aristocratic,  and  our  aristocracy  the 
most  democratic  in  the  world — a  peculiarity  which  has  lasted 
down  to  the  present  day,  and  which  has  produced  many  im- 
portant moral  and  political  effects. 

The  government  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  of  his  son,  and  of 
his  grandchildren  was,  on  the  whole,  more  arbitrary  than  that 
Government  of  °f  the  Plantagenets.  Personal  character  may  in 
the  Tudors.  some  degree  explain  the  difference ;  for  courage  and 
force  of  will  were  common  to  all  the  men  and  women  of  the 
House  of  Tudor.  They  exercised  their  power  during  a  period 
of  a  hundred  and  twenty  years,  always  with  vigor,  often  with 
violence,  sometimes  with  cruelty.  They,  in  imitation  of  the 
dynasty  which  had  preceded  them,  occasionally  invaded  the 
rights  of  the  subject,  occasionally  exacted  taxes  under  the 
name  of  loans  and  gifts,  and  occasionally  dispensed  with  penal 
statutes;  nay,  though  they  never  presumed  to  e»act  any  per- 
manent law  by  their  own  authority,  they  occasionally  took 
upon  themselves,  when  Parliament  was  not  sitting,  to  meet 
temporary  exigencies  by  temporary  edicts.  It  was,  however, 
impossible  for  the  Tudors  to  carry  oppression  beyond  a  certain 
point ;  for  they  had  no  armed  force,  and  they  were  surround- 
ed by  an  armed  people.  Their  palace  was  guarded  by  a  few 
domestics,  whom  the  array  of  a  single  shire,  or  of  a  single 
ward  of  London,  could  with  ease  have  overpowered.  These 
haughty  princes  ..were,  therefore,  under  a  restraint  stronger 
than  any  which  mere  law  can  impose,  under  a  restraint  which 
did  not,  indeed,  prevent  them  from  sometimes  treating  an  in- 
dividual in  an  arbitrary  and  even  in  a  barbarous  manner,  but 
which  effectually  secured  the  nation  against  general  and  long- 
continued  oppression.  They  might  safely  be  tyrants  within 
the  precinct  of  the  court :  but  it  was  necessary  for  them  to 


4r8  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

watch  \vith  constant  anxiety  the  temper  of  the  country. 
Henry  the  Eighth,  for  example,  encountered  no  opposition 
when  he  wished  to  send  Buckingham  and  Surrey,  Anne 
Boleyn  and  Lady  Salisbury,  to  the  scaffold.  But  when,  with- 
out the  consent  of  Parliament,  lie  demanded  of  his  subjects  a 
contribution  amounting  to  one-sixth  of  their  goods,  he  soon 
found  it  necessary  to  retract.  The  cry  of  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands was  that  they  were  English  and  not  French,  freemen  and 
not  slaves.  In  Kent  the  royal  commissioners  fled  for  their 
lives.  In  Suffolk  four  thousand  men  appeared  in  arms.  The 
King's  lieutenants  in  that  county  vainly  exerted  themselves 
to  raise  an  army.  Those  who  did  not  join  in  the  insurrec- 
tion declared  that  they  would  not  fight  against  their  brethren 
in  such  a  quarrel.  Henry,  proud  and  self-willed  as  he  was, 
shrank,  not  without  reason,  from  a  conflict  with  the  roused 
spirit  of  the  nation.  He  had  before  his  eyes  the  fate  of  his 
predecessors  who  had  perished  at  Berkeley  and  Pomfret.  He 
not  only  cancelled  his  illegal  commissions ;  he  not  only  grant- 
ed a  general  pardon  to  all  the  malcontents ;  but  he  publicly 
and  solemnly  apologized  for  his  infraction  of  the  laws. 

His  conduct,  on  this  occasion,  well  illustrates  the  whole  pol- 
icy of  his  house.  The  temper  of  the  princes  of  that  line  was 
hot,  and  their  spirit  high :  but  they  understood  the  character 
of  the  nation  which  they  governed,  and  never  once,  like  some 
of  their  predecessors,  and  some  of  their  successors,  carried  ob- 
stinacy to  a  fatal  point.  The  discretion  of  the  Tudors  was 
such  that  their  power,  though  it  was  often  resisted,  was  never 
subverted.  The  reign  of  every  one  of  them  was  disturbed  by 
formidable  discontents :  but  the  government  was  always  able 
either  to  soothe  the  mutineers,  or  to  conquer  and  punish 
them.  Sometimes,  by  timely  concessions,  it  succeeded  in 
averting  civil  hostilities ;  but  in  general  it  stood  firm,  and 
called  for  help  on  the  nation.  The  nation  obeyed  the  call, 
rallied  round  the  sovereign,  and  enabled  him  to  quell  the 
disaffected  minority.  • 

Thus,  from  the  age  of  Henry  the  Third  to  the  age  of  Eliz- 
abeth, England  grew  and  flourished  under  a  polity  which  con- 
tained the  germ  of  our  present  institutions,  and  which,  though 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION*  49 

not  very  exactly  defined,  or  very  exactly  observed,  was  yet  ef- 
fectually prevented  from  degenerating  into  despotism,  by  the 
awe  in  which  the  governors  stood  of  the  spirit  and  strength 
of  the  governed. 

But  such  a  polity  is  suited  only  to  a  particular  stage  in  the 
progress  of  society.  The  same  causes  which  produce  a  divis- 
ion of  labor  in  the  peaceful  arts  must  at  length  make  war  a 
distinct  science  and  a  distinct  trade.  A  time  arrives  when 
the  use  of  arms  begins  to  occupy  the  entire  attention  of  a  sep- 
arate class.  It  soon  appears  that  peasants  and  burghers,  how- 
ever brave,  are  unable  to  stand  their  ground  against  veteran 
soldiers,  whose  whole  life  is  a  preparation  for  the  day  of  bat- 
tle, whose  nerves  have  been  braced  by  long  familiarity  with 
danger,  and  whose  movements  have  all  the  precision  of  clock- 
work. It  is  found  that  the  defence  of  nations  can  no  longer 
be  safely  intrusted  to  warriors  taken  from  the  plough  or  the 
loom  for  a  campaign  of  forty  days.  If  any  state  forms  a 
great  regular  army,  the  bordering  states  must  imitate  the  ex- 
ample, or  must  submit  to  a  foreign  yoke.  But,  where  a  great 
regular  army  exists,  limited  monarchy,  such  as  it  was  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  can  exist  no  longer.  The  sovereign  is  at  once 
emancipated  from  what  had  been  the  chief  restraint  on  his 
power ;  and  he  inevitably  becomes  absolute,  unless  he  is  sub- 
jected to  checks  such  as  would  be  superfluous  in  a  society 
where  all  are  soldiers  occasionally,  and  none  permanently. 

With  the  danger  came  also  the  means  of  escape.  In  the 
monarchies  of  the  Middle  Ages  the  power  of  the  sword  be- 
longed to  the  prince :  but  the  power  of  the  purse 

Limited  mon-  °  .  ... 

archies  of  the    belonged  to  the  nation  :  and  the  progress  of  ci  vili- 

Middle  Ages  J  r      v- 

genemiiy        zation,  as  it  made  the  sword  of  the  prince  more 

turned  into  ab-  .  -"_ 

solute  mon-      and  m ore  formidable  to  the  nation,  made  the  purse 

urchies. 

of  the  nation  more  and  more  necessary  to  the 
prince.  His  hereditary  revenues  would  no  longer  suffice, 
even  for  the  expenses  of  civil  government.  It  was  utterly 
impossible  that,  without  a  regular  and  extensive  system  of 
taxation,  he  could  keep  in  constant  efficiency  a  great  body  of 
disciplined  troops.  The  policy  which  the  parliamentary  as- 
semblies of  Europe  ought  to  have  adopted  was  to  take  their 
I.— 4 


50  .      HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  L 

stand  firmly  on  their  constitutional  right  to  give  or  withhold 
money,  and  resolutely  to  refuse  funds  for  the  support  of  ar- 
mies, till  ample  securities  had  been  provided  against  despotism. 

This  wise  policy  was  followed  in  our  country  alone.  In 
the  neighboring  kingdoms  great  military  establishments*  were 
formed ;  no  new  safeguards  for  public  liberty  were  devised ; 
and  the  consequence  was,  that  the  old  parliamentary  institu- 
tions everywhere  ceased  to  exist.  In  France,  where  they  had 
always  been  feeble,  they  languished,  and  at  length  died  of 
mere  weakness.  In  Spain,  where  they  had  been  as  strong  as 
in  any  part  of  Europe,  they  struggled  fiercely  for  life,  but 
struggled  too  late.  The  mechanics  of  Toledo  and  Valladolid 
vainly  defended  the  privileges  of  the  Castilian  Cortes  against 
the  veteran  battalions  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  As  vainly,  in  the 
next  generation,  did  the  citizens  of  Saragossa  stand  up  against 
Philip  the  Second  for  the  old  constitution  of  Aragon.  One 
after  another,  the  great  national  councils  of  the  continental 
monarchies,  councils  once  scarcely  less  proud  and  powerful 
than  those  which  sat  at  AVestminster,  sank  into  utter  insig- 
nificance. If  they  met,  they  met  merely  .as  our  Convocation 
now  meets,  to  go  through  some  venerable  forms. 

In  England  events  took  a  different  course.  This  singular 
felicity  she  owed  chiefly  to  her  insular  situation.  Before  the 
The  English  end  °f  the  fifteenth  century  great  military  estab- 
8?ngu£r'Ix?ep-  lishments  were  indispensable  to  the  dignity,  and 
even  to  the  safety,  of  the  French  and  Castilian 
monarchies.  If  either  of  those  two  powers  had  disarmed,  it 
would  soon  have  been  compelled  to  submit  to  the  dictation 
of  the  other.  But  England,  protected  by  the  sea  against  in- 
vasion, and  rarely  engaged  in  warlike  operations  on  the  Con- 
tinent, was  not,  as  yet,  under  the  necessity  of  employing  reg- 
ular troops.  The  sixteenth  century,  the  seventeenth  century, 
found  her  still  without  a  standing  army.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  the  seventeenth  century  political  science  had  made 
considerable  progress.  The  fate  of  the  Spanish  Cortes  and 
of  the  French  States -general  had  given  solemn  warning  to 
our  parliaments ;  and  our  parliaments,  fully  aware  of  the 
nature  and  magnitude  of  the  danger,  adopted,  in  good  time, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  51 

a  system  of  tactics  which,  after  a  contest  protracted  through 
three  generations,  was  at  length  successful. 

Almost  every  writer  who  has  treated  of  that  contest  has 
been  desirous  to  show  that  his  own  party  was  the  party  which 
was  struggling  to  preserve  the  old  constitution  unaltered. 
The  truth,  however,  is  that  the  old  constitution  could  not  be 
preserved  unaltered.  A  law,  beyond  the  control  of  human 
wisdom,  had  decreed  that  there  should  no  longer  be  govern- 
ments of  that  peculiar  class  which,  in  the  fourteenth  and  fif- 
teenth centuries,  had  been  common  throughout  Europe.  The 
question,  therefore,  was  not  whether  our  polity  should  under- 
go a  change,  but  what  the  nature  of  the  change  should  be. 
The  introduction  of  a  new  and  mighty  force  had  disturbed 
the  old  equilibrium,  and  had  turned  one  limited  monarchy 
after  another  into  an  absolute  monarchy.  What  had  hap- 
pened elsewhere  would  assuredly  have  happened  here,  unless 
the  balance  had  been  redressed  by  a  great  transfer  of  power 
from  the  crown  to  the  Parliament.  Our  princes  were  about 
to  have  at  their  command  means  of  coercion  such  as  no  Plan- 
tagenet  or  Tudor  had  ever  possessed.  They  must  inevitably 
have  become  despots,  unless  they  had  been,  at  the  same  time, 
placed  under  restraints  to  which  no  Plantagenet  or  Tudor 
had  ever  been  subject. 

It  seems   certain,  therefore,  that,  had  none  but  political 

causes  been  at  work,  the  seventeenth  century  would  not  have 

passed  away  without  a  fierce  conflict  between  our 

The  Reforma-     *  .  J       . 

tion  and  its  kings  and  their  parliaments. .  Jout  other  causes  01 
perhaps  greater  potency  contributed  to  produce  the 
same  effect.  While  the  government  of  the  Tudors  was  in  its 
highest  vigor,  an  event  took,  place  which  has  colored  the;  des- 
tinies of  all  Christian  nations,  .and  in  an  especial  manner  the 
destinies  of  England.  Twice  during  the  Middle  Ages  the 
mind  of  Europe  had  risen  up  against  the  domination  of  Rome. 
The  first  insurrection  broke  out  in  the  South  of  France.  The 
energy  of  Innocent  the  Third,  the  zeal  of  the  young  orders  of 
Francis  and  Dominic,  and  the  ferocity  of  the  Crusaders  whom 
the  priesthood  let  loose  on  an  unwarlike  population,  crushed 
the  Albigensian  churches.  The  second  reformation  had  its 


52  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

origin  in  England,  and  spread  to  Bohemia.  The  Council  of 
Constance,  by  removing  some  ecclesiastical  disorders  which 
had  given  scandal  to  Christendom,  and  the  princes  of  Europe, 
by  unsparingly  using  fire  and  sword  against  the  heretics,  suc- 
ceeded in  arresting  and  turning  back  the  movement.  Nor  is 
this  much  to  be  lamented.  The  sympathies  of  a  Protestant, 
it  is  true,  will  naturally  be  on  the  side  of  the  Albigensians 
and  of  the  Lollards.  Yet  an  enlightened  and  temperate  Prot- 
estant will  perhaps  be  disposed  to  doubt  whether  the  success, 
either  of  the  Albigensians  or  of  the  Lollards,  would,  on  the 
whole,  have  promoted  the  happiness  and  virtue  of  mankind. 
Corrupt  as  the  Church  of  Rome  was,  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that,  if  that  Church  had  been  overthrown  in  the  twelfth  or 
even  in  the  fourteenth  century,  the  vacant  space  would  have 
been  occupied  by  some  system  more  corrupt  still.  There  was 
then,  through  the  greater  part  of  Europe,  very  little  knowl- 
edge ;  and  that  little  was  confined  to  the  clergy.  Not  one 
man  in  five  hundred  could  have  spelled  his  way  through  a 
psalm.  Books  were  few  and  costly.  The  art  of  printing  was 
unknown.  Copies  of  the  Bible,  inferior  in  beauty  and  clear- 
ness to  those  which  every  cottager  may  now  command,  sold 
for  prices  which  many  priests  could  not  afford  to  give.  It 
was  obviously  impossible  that  the  laity  should  search  the 
Scriptures  for  themselves.  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that,  as 
soon  as  they  had  put  off  one  spiritual  yoke,  they  would  have 
put  on  another,  and  that  the  power  lately  exercised  by  the 
clergy  of  the  Church  of  Rome  would  have  passed  to  a  far 
worse  class  of  teachers.  The  sixteenth  century  was  compara- 
tively a  time  of  light.  Yet  even  in  the  sixteenth  century  a 
considerable  number  of  those  who  quitted  the  old  religion  fol- 
lowed the  first  confident  and  plausible  guide  who  offered  him- 
self, and  were  soon  led  into  errors  far  more  serious  than  those 
which  they  had  renounced.  Thus  Matthias  and  Kniperdoling, 
apostles  of  lust,  robbery,  and  murder,  were  able  for  a  time  to 
rule  great  cities.  In  a  darker  age  such  false  prophets  might 
have  founded  empires ;  and  Christianity  might  have  been  dis- 
torted into  a  cruel  and  licentious  superstition,  more  noxious, 
not  only  than  Popery,  but  even  than  Islamism. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  53 

About  a  hundred  years  after  the  rising  of  the  Council  of 
Constance,  that  great  change  emphatically  called  the  Refor- 
mation began.  The  fulness  of  time  was  now  come.  The 
clergy  were  no  longer  the  sole  or  the  chief  depositories  of 
knowledge.  The  invention  of  printing  had  furnished  the 
assailants  of  the  Church  with  a  mighty  weapon  which  had 
been  wanting  to  their  predecessors.  The  study  of  the  ancient 
writers,  the  rapid  development  of  the  powers  of  the  modern 
languages,  the  unprecedented  activity  which  was  displayed  in 
every  department  of  literature,  the  political  state  of  Europe, 
the  vices  of  the  Roman  court,  the  exactions  of  the  Roman 
chancery,  the  jealousy  with  which  the  wealth  and  privileges 
of  the  clergy  were  naturally  regarded  by  laymen,  the  jealousy 
with  which  the  Italian  ascendency  was  naturally  regarded  by 
men  born  on  our  side  of  the  Alps,  all  these  things  gave  to  the 
teachers  of  the  new  theology  an  advantage  which  they  per- 
fectly understood  how  to  use. 

Those  who  hold  that  the  influence  of  the  Church  of  Rome 
in  the  Dark  Ages  was,  on  the  whole,  beneficial  to  mankind 
may  yet  with  perfect  consistency  regard  the  Reformation  as 
an  inestimable  blessing.  The  leading-strings,  which  preserve 
and  uphold  the  infant,  would  impede  the  full-grown  man. 
And  so  the  very  means  by  which  the  human  mind  is,  in  one 
stage  of  its  progress,  supported  and  propelled,  may,  in  another 
stage,  be  mere  hinderances.  There  is  a  season  in  the  life,  both 
of  an  individual  and  of  a  society,  at  which  submission  and 
faith,  such  as  at  a  later  period  would  be  justly  called  servility 
and  credulity,  are  useful  qualities.  The  child  who  teachably 
and  undoubtingly  listens  to  the  instructions  of  his  elders  is 
likely  to  improve  rapidly.  But  the  man  who  should  receive 
with  childlike  docility  every  assertion  and  dogma  uttered  by 
another  man  no  wiser  than  himself  would  become  contempti- 
ble. It  is  the  same  with  communities.  The  childhood  of  the 
European  nations  was  passed  under  the  tutelage  of  the  clergy. 
The  ascendency  of  the  sacerdotal  order  was  long  the  ascen- 
dency which  naturally  and  properly  belongs  to  intellectual 
superiority.  The  priests,  with  all  their  faults,  were  by  far 
the  wisest  portion  of  society.  It  was,  therefore,  on  the  whole, 


54:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

good  that  they  should  be  respected  and  obeyed.  The  en- 
croachments of  the  ecclesiastical  power  on  the  province  of 
the  civil  power  produced  much  more  happiness  than  misery, 
while  the  ecclesiastical  power  was  in  the  hands  of  the  only 
class  that  had  studied  history,  philosophy,  and  public  law,  and 
while  the  civil  power  was  in  the  hands  of  savage  chiefs,  who 
could  not  read  their  own  grants  and  edicts.  But  a  change 
took  place.  Knowledge  gradually  spread  among  laymen.  At 
the  commencement  of  the  sixteenth  century  many  of  them 
were  in  every  intellectual  attainment  fully  equal  to  the  most 
enlightened  of  their  spiritual  pastors.  Thenceforward  that 
dominion,  which,  during  the  Dark  Ages,  had  been,  in  spite  of 
many  abuses,  a  legitimate  and  salutary  guardianship,  became 
an  unjust  and  noxious  tyranny. 

From  the  time  when  the  barbarians  overran  the  Western 
Empire  to  the  time  of  the  revival  of  letters,  the  influence  of 
the  Church  of  Home  had  been  generally  favorable  to  science, 
to  civilization,  and  to  good  government.  But,  during  the  last 
three  centuries,  to  stunt  the  growth  of  the  human  mind  has 
been  her  chief  object.  Throughout  Christendom,  whatever 
advance  has  been  made  in  knowledge,  in  freedom,  in  wealth, 
and  in  the  arts  of  life,  has  been  made  in  spite  of  her,  and  has 
everywhere  been  in  inverse  proportion  to  her  power.  The 
loveliest  and  most  fertile  provinces  of  Europe  have,  under  her 
rule,  been  sunk  in  poverty,  in  political  servitude,  and  in  intel- 
lectual torpor ;  while  Protestant  countries,  once  proverbial  for 
sterility  and  barbarism,  have  been  turned,  by  skill  and  indus- 
try, into  gardens,  and  can  boast  of  a  long  list  of  heroes  and 
statesmen,  philosophers  and  poets.  Whoever,  knowing  what 
Italy  and  Scotland  naturally  are,  and  what,  four  hundred  years 
ago,  they  actually  were,  shall  now  compare  the  country  round 
Rome  with  the  country  round  Edinburgh,  will  be  able  to 
form  some  judgment  as  to  the  tendency  of  Papal  domina- 
tion. The  descent  of  Spain,  once  the  first  among  monarch- 
ies, to  the  lowest  depths  of  degradation,  the  elevation  of  Hol- 
land, in  spite  of  many  natural  disadvantages,  to  a  position 
such  as  no  commonwealth  so  small  has  ever  reached,  teach 
the  same  lesson.  Whoever  passes  in  Germany  from  a  Ro- 


CH.  I.  BEFOKE  THE  RESTORATION.  55 

man  Catholic  to  a  Protestant  principality,  in  Switzerland  from 
a  Roman  Catholic  to  a  Protestant  canton,  in  Ireland  from  a 
Roman  Catholic  to  a  Protestant  county,  finds  that  he  has 
passed  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  grade  of  civilization.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  the  same  law  prevails.  The 
Protestants  of  the  United  States  have  left  far  behind  them 
the  Roman  Catholics  of  Mexico,  Peru,  and  Brazil.  The  Ro- 
man Catholics  of  Lower  Canada  remain  inert,  while  the  whole 
continent  round  them  is  in  a  ferment  with  Protestant  activi- 
ty and  enterprise.  The  French  have  doubtless  shown  an  en- 
ergy and  an  intelligence  which,  even  when  misdirected,  have 
justly  entitled  them  to  be  called  a  great  people.  But  this  ap- 
parent exception,  when  examined,  will  be  found  to  confirm 
the  rule ;  for  in  no  country  that  is  called  Roman  Catholic 
has  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  during  several  generations, 
possessed  so  little  authority  as  in  France.  The  literature  of 
France  is  justly  held  in  high  esteem  throughout  the  world. 
But  if  we  deduct  from  that  literature  all  that  belongs  to  four 
parties  which  have  been,  on  different  grounds,  in  rebellion 
against  the  Papal  domination,  all  that  belongs  to  the  Protes- 
tants, all  that  belongs  to  the  assertors  of  the  Gallican  liber- 
ties, all  that  belongs  to  the  Jansenists,  and  all  that  belongs  to 
the  philosophers,  how  much  will  be  left  ? 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  England  owes  more  to  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion  or  to  the  Reformation.  For  the 
amalgamation  of  races  and  for  the  abolition  of  villeinage,  she 
is  chiefly  indebted  to  the  influence  which  the  priesthood,  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  exercised  over  the  laity.  For  political  and 
intellectual  freedom,  and  for  all  the  blessings  which  political 
and  intellectual  freedom  have  brought  in  their  train,  she  is 
chiefly  indebted  to  the  great  rebellion  of  the  laity  against  the 
priesthood. 

The  struggle  between  the  old  and  the  new  theology  in  our 
country  was  long,  and  the  event  sometimes  seemed  doubtful. 
There  were  two  extreme  parties,  prepared  to  act  with  vio- 
lence or  to  suffer  wTith  stubborn  resolution.  Between  them 
lay,  during  a  considerable  time,  a  middle  party,  which  blend- 
ed, very  illogically,  but  by  no  means  unnaturally,  lessons 


56  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

learned  in  the  nursery  with  the  sermons  of  the  modern  evan- 
gelists, and,  while  clinging  with  fondness  to  old  observances, 
yet  detested  abuses  with  which  those  observances  were  close- 
ly connected.  Men  in  such  a  frame  of  mind  were  willing  to 
obey,  almost  with  thankfulness,  the  dictation  of  an  able  ruler 
who  spared  them  the  trouble  of  judging  for  themselves,  and, 
raising  a  firm  and  commanding  voice  above  the  uproar  of  con- 
troversy, told  them  how  to  worship  and  what  to  believe.  It 
is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  Tudors  should  have  been 
able  to  exercise  a  great  influence  on  ecclesiastical  affairs ;  nor 
is  it  strange  that  their  influence  should,  for  the  most  part, 
have  been  exercised  with  a  view  to  their  own  interest. 

Henry  the  Eighth  attempted  to  constitute  an  Anglican 
Church  differing  from  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  on  the 
point  of  the  supremacy,  and  on  that  point  alone.  His  success 
in  this  attempt  was  extraordinary.  The  force  of  his  charac- 
ter, the  singularly  favorable  situation  in  which  he  stood  with 
respect  to  foreign  powers,  the  immense  wealth  which  the  spo- 
liation of  the  abbeys  placed  at  his  disposal,  and  the  support 
of  that  class  which  still  halted  between  two  opinions,  enabled 
him  to  bid  defiance  to  both  the  extreme  parties,  to  burn  as 
heretics  those  who  avowed  the  tenets  of  the  Reformers,  and 
to  hang  as  traitors  those  who  owned  the  authority  of  the 
Pope.  But  Henry's  system  died  with  him.  Had  his  life 
been  prolonged,  he  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  maintain 
a  position  assailed  with  equal  fury  by  all  who  were  zealous 
either  for  the  new  or  for  the  old  opinions.  The  ministers 
who  held  the  royal  prerogatives  in  trust  for  his  infant  son 
could  not  venture  to  persist  in  so  hazardous  a  policy,  nor 
could  Elizabeth  venture  to  return  to  it.  It  was  necessary 
to  make  a  choice.  The  government  must  either  submit  to 
Rome,  or  must  obtain  the  aid  of  the  Protestants.  The  govern- 
ment and  the  Protestants  had  only  one  thing  in  common,  ha- 
tred of  the  Papal  power.  The  English  Reformers  were  eager 
to  go  as  far  as  their  brethren  on  the  Continent.  They  unan- 
imously condemned  as  Antichristian  numerous  dogmas  and 
practices  to  which  Henry  had  stubbornly  adhered,  and  which 
Elizabeth  reluctantly  abandoned.  Many  felt  a  strong  repug- 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  57 

nance  even  to  things  indifferent  which  had  formed  part  of 
the  polity  or  ritual  of  the  mystical  Babylon.  Thus  Bishop 
Hooper,  who  died  manfully  at  Gloucester  for  his  religion, 
long  refused  to  wear  the  episcopal  vestments.  Bishop  Rid- 
ley, a  martyr  of  still  greater  renown,  pulled  down  the  ancient 
altars  of  his  diocese,  arid  ordered  the  Eucharist  to  be  adminis- 
tered in  the  middle  of  churches,  at  tables  which  the  Papists 
irreverently  termed  oyster  boards.  Bishop  Jewel  pronounced 
the  clerical  garb  to  be  a  stage  dress,  a  fool's  coat,  a  relic  of 
the  Amorites,  and  promised  that  he  would  spare  no  labor  to 
extirpate  such  degrading  absurdities.  Archbishop  Grindal 
long  hesitated  about  accepting  a  mitre  from  dislike  of  what 
he  regarded  as  the  mummery  of  consecration.  Bishop  Park- 
hurst  uttered  a  fervent  prayer  that  the  Church  of  England 
wrould  propose  to  herself  the  Church  of  Zurich  as  the  abso- 
lute pattern  of  a  Christian  community.  Bishop  Ponet  was 
of  opinion  that  the  word  Bishop  should  be  abandoned  to  the 
Papists,  and  that  the  chief  officers  of  the  purified  Church 
should  be  called  Superintendents.  When  it  is  considered 
that  none  of  these  prelates  belonged  to  the  extreme  section 
of  the  Protestant  party,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that,  if  the  gen- 
eral sense  of  that  party  had  been  followed,  the  work  of  re- 
form would  have  been  carried  on  as  unsparingly  in  England 
as  in  Scotland. 

But,  as  the  government  needed  the  support  of  the  Protes- 
tants, so  the  Protestants  needed  the  protection  of 

Origin  of  the  „  r  . 

church  of  the  government.  Much  was,  therefore,  given  up 
on  both  sides :  a  union  was  effected ;  and  the  fruit 
of  that  union  was  the  Church  of  England. 

To  the  peculiarities  of  this  great  institution,  and  to  the 
strong  passions  which  it  lias  called  forth  in  the  minds  both 
of  friends  and  of  enemies,  are  to  be  attributed  many  of  the 
most  important  events  which  have,  since  the  Reformation, 
taken  place  in  our  country;  nor  can  the  secular  history  of 
England  be  at  all  understood  by  us,  unless  we  study  it  in  con- 
stant connection  with  the  history  of  her  ecclesiastical  polity. 

The  man  who  took  the  chief  part  in  settling  the  conditions 
of  the  alliance  which  produced  the  Anglican  Church  was 


58  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Archbishop  Cranraer.  He  was  the  representative  of  both  the 
parties  which,  at  that  time,  needed  each  other's  assistance. 
He  was  at  once  a  divine  and  a  courtier.  In  his  character  of 
divine  he  was  perfectly  ready  to  go  as  far  in  the  way  of 
change  as  any  Swiss  or  Scottish  reformer.  In  his  character 
of  courtier  he  was  desirous  to  preserve  that  organization  which 
had,  during  many  ages,  admirably  served  the  purposes  of  the 
Bishops  of  Rome,  and  might  be  expected  now  to  serve  equally 
well  the  purposes  of  the  English  kings  and  of  their  ministers. 
His  temper  and  his  understanding  eminently  fitted  him  to  act 
as  mediator.  Saintly  in  his  professions,  unscrupulous  in  his 
dealings,  zealous  for  nothing,  bold  in  speculation,  a  coward 
and  a  timeserver  in  action,  a  placable  enemy  and  a  lukewarm 
friend,  he  was  in  every  way  qualified  to  arrange  the  terms  of 
the  coalition  between  the  religious  and  the  worldly  enemies 
of  Popery. 

To  this  day  the  constitution,  the  doctrines,  and  the  services 
of  the  Church,  retain  the  visible  marks  of  the  compromise 
Her  peculiar  from  which  she  sprang.  She  occupies  a  middle 
position  between  the  Churches  of  Rome  and  Ge- 
neva. Her  doctrinal  confessions  and  discourses,  composed  by 
Protestants,  set  forth  principles  of  theology  in  which  Calvin 
or  Knox  would  have  found  scarcely  a  word  to  disapprove. 
Her  prayers  and  thanksgivings,  derived  from  the  ancient 
breviaries,  are  very  generally  such  that  Cardinal  Fisher  or 
Cardinal  Pole  might  have  heartily  joined  in  them.  A  contro- 
versialist who  puts  an  Arminian  sense  on  her  Articles  and 
Homilies  will  be  pronounced  by  candid  men  to  be  as  unrea- 
sonable as  a  controversialist  who  denies  that  the  doctrine  of 
baptismal  regeneration  can  be  discovered  in  her  Liturgy. 

The  Church  of  Rome  held  that  episcopacy  was  of  divine 
institution,  and  that  certain  supernatural  graces  of  a  high 
order  had  been  transmitted  by  the  imposition  of  hands 
through  fifty  generations,  from  the  Eleven  who  received  their 
commission  on  the  Galilean  mount,  to  the  Bishops  who  met 
at  Trent.  A  large  body  of  Protestants,  on  the  other  hand, 
regarded  prelacy  as  positively  unlawful,  and  persuaded  them- 
selves that  they  found  a  very  different  form  of  ecclesiastical 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  EESTORATION.  59 

government  prescribed  in  Scripture.  The  founders  of  the 
Anglican  Church  took  a  middle  course.  They  retained  epis- 
copacy ;  but  they  did  not  declare  it  to  be  an  institution  essen- 
tial to  the  welfare  of  a  Christian  society,  or  to  the  efficacy  of 
the  sacraments.  Cranmer,  indeed,  on  one  important  occasion, 
plainly  avowed  his  conviction  that,  in  the  primitive  times, 
there  was  no  distinction  between  bishops  and  priests,  and  that 
the  laying  on  of  hands  was  altogether  superfluous. 

Among  the  Presbyterians,  the  conduct  of  public  worship  is, 
to  a  great  extent,  left  to  the  minister.  Their  prayers,  there- 
fore, are  not  exactly  the  same  in  any  two  assemblies  on  the 
same  day,  or  on  any  two  days  in  the  same  assembly.  In  one 
parish  they  are  fervent,  eloquent,  and  full  of  meaning.  In 
the  next  parish  they  may  be  languid  or  absurd.  The  priests 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  on  the  other  hand,  have,  dur- 
ing many  generations,  daily  chanted  the  same  ancient  con- 
fessions, supplications,  and  thanksgivings,  in  India  and  Lithu- 
ania, in  Ireland  ^,nd  Peru.  The  service,  being  in  a  dead  lan- 
guage, is  intelligible  only  to  the  learned ;  and  the  great  ma- 
jority of  the  congregation  may  be  said  to  assist  as  spectators 
rather  than  as  auditors.  Here,  again,  the  Church  of  England 
took  a  middle  course.  She  copied  the  Roman  Catholic  forms 
of  prayer,  but  translated  them  into  the  vulgar  tongue,  and  in- 
vited the  illiterate  multitude  to  join  its  voice  to  that  of  the 
minister. 

In  every  part  of  her  system  the  same  policy  may  be  traced. 
Utterly  rejecting  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  and  con- 
demning as  idolatrous  all  adoration  paid  to  the  sacramental 
bread  and  wine,  she  yet,  to  the  disgust  of  the  Puritan,  re- 
quired her  children  to  receive  the  memorials  of  divine  love, 
meekly  kneeling  upon  their  knees.  Discarding  many  rich 
vestments  which  surrounded  the  altars  of  the  ancient  faith, 
she  yet  retained,  to  the  horror  of  weak  minds,  a  robe  of  white 
linen,  typical  of  the  purity  which  belonged  to  her  as  the  mys- 
tical spouse  of  Christ.  Discarding  a  crowd  of  pantomimic 
gestures  which,  in  the  Roman  Catholic  worship,  are  substi- 
tuted for  intelligible  words,  she  yet  shocked  many  rigid  Prot- 
estants by  marking  the  infant  just  sprinkled  from  the  font 


60  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

with  the  sign  of  the  cross.  The  Roman  Catholic  addressed 
his  prayers  to  a  multitude  of  saints,  among  whom  were  num- 
bered many  men  of  doubtful,  and  some  of  hateful  character. 
The  Puritan  refused  the  addition  of  Saint  even  to  the  apostle 
of  the  Gentiles,  and  to  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved.  The 
Church  of  England,  though  she  asked  for  the  intercession  of 
no  created  being,  still  set  apart  days  for  the  commemoration 
of  some  who  had  done  and  suffered  great  things  for  the  faith. 
She  retained  confirmation  and  ordination  as  edifying  rites; 
but  she  degraded  them  from  the  rank  of  sacraments.  Shrift 
was  no  part  of  her  system.  Yet  she  gently  invited  the  dying 
penitent  to  confess  his  sins  to  a  divine,  and  empowered  her 
ministers  to  soothe  the  departing  soul  by  an  absolution  wThich 
breathes  the  very  spirit  of  the  old  religion.  In  general,  it 
may  be  said  that  she  appeals  more  to  the  understanding,  and 
less  to  the  senses  and  the  imagination,  than  the  Church  of 
Rome,  and  that  she  appeals  less  to  the  understanding,  and 
more  to  the  senses  and  imagination,  than*  the  Protestant 
Churches  of  Scotland,  France,  and  Switzerland. 

Nothing,  however,  so  strongly  distinguished  the  Church  of 
England  from  other  churches  as  the  relation  in  which  she 
Relation  in  stood  to  the  monarchy.  The  King  was  her  head. 
rtoidhtohrtie  The  limits  of  the  authority  wrhich  he  possessed,  as 
such,  were  not  traced,  and  indeed  have  never  yet 
been  traced,  with  precision.  The  laws  which  declared  him 
supreme  in  ecclesiastical  matters  were  drawn  rudely  and  in 
general  terms.  If,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  the  sense 
of  those  laws,  we  examine  the  books  and  lives  of  those  who 
founded  the  English  Church,  our  perplexity  will  be  increased ; 
for  the  founders  of  the  English  Church  wrote  and  acted  in 
an  age  of  violent  intellectual  fermentation,  and  of  constant 
action  and  reaction.  They  therefore  often  contradicted  each 
other,  and  sometimes  contradicted  themselves.  That  the 
King  was,  under  Christ,  sole  head  of  the  Church,  was  a  doc- 
trine which  they  all  with  one  voice  affirmed :  but  those  words 
had  very  different  significations  in  different  mouths,  and  in 
the  same  mouth  at  different  conjunctures.  Sometimes  an 
authority  which  would  have  satisfied  Hildebrand  was  ascribed 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  61 

to  the  sovereign :  then  it  dwindled  down  to  an  authority  lit- 
tle more  than  that  which  had  been  claimed  by  many  ancient 
English  princes  who  had  been  in  constant  communion  with 
the  Church  of  Rome.  What  Henry  and  his  favorite  coun- 
sellors meant,  at  one  time,  by  the  supremacy,  was  certainly 
nothing  less  than  the  whole  power  of  the  keys.  The  King 
was  to  be  the  Pope  of  his  kingdom,  the  vicar  of  God,  the  ex- 
positor of  Catholic  verity,  the  channel  of  sacramental  graces. 
He  arrogated  to  himself  the  right  of  deciding  dogmatically 
what  was  orthodox  doctrine  and  what  was  heresy,  of  draw- 
ing up  and  imposing  confessions  of  faith,  and  of  giving  relig- 
ious instruction  to  his  people.  He  proclaimed  that  all  juris- 
diction, spiritual  as  well  as  temporal,  was  derived  from  him 
alone,  and  that  it  was  in  his  power  to  confer  episcopal  author* 
ity,  and  to  take  it  away.  He  actually  ordered  his  seal  to  be 
put  to  commissions  by  \vhich  bishops  were  appointed,  who 
were  to  exercise  their  functions  as  his  deputies,  and  during  his 
pleasure.  According  to  this  system,  as  expounded  by  Cran- 
mer,  the  King  was  the  spiritual  as  well  as  the  temporal  chief 
of  the  nation.  In  both  capacities  His  Highness  must  have 
lieutenants.  As  he  appointed  civil  officers  to  keep  his  seal, 
to  collect  his  revenues,  and  to  dispense  justice  in  his  name, 
so  he  appointed  divines  of  various  ranks  to  preach  the  Gospel, 
and  to  administer  the  sacraments.  It  was  unnecessary  that 
there  should  be  any  imposition  of  hands.  The  King — such 
was  the  opinion  of  Cranmer  given  in  the  plainest  words 
—  might,  in  virtue  of  authority  derived  from  God,  make  a 
priest;  and  the  priest  so  made  needed  no  ordination  what- 
ever. These  opinions  the  Archbishop,  in  spite  of  the  oppo- 
sition of  less  courtly  divines,  followed  out  to  every  legitimate 
consequence.  He  held  that  his  own  spiritual  functions,  like 
the  secular  functions  of  the  Chancellor  and  Treasurer,  were 
at  once  determined  by  a  demise  of  the  crown.  When  Henry 
died,  therefore,  the  Primate  and  his  suffragans  took  out  fresh 
commissions,  empowering  them  to  ordain  and  to  govern  the 
Church  till  the  new  sovereign  should  think  fit  to  order  oth- 
erwise. When  it  was  objected  that  a  power  to  bind  and 
to  loose,  altogether  distinct  from  temporal  power,  had  been 


62  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

given  by  onr  Lord  to  his  apostles,  some  theologians  of  this 
school  replied  that  the  power  to  bind  and  to  loose  had  de- 
scended not  to  the  clergy,  but  to  the  whole  body  of  Chris- 
tian men,  and  ought  to  be  exercised  by  the  chief  magistrate 
as  the  representative  of  the  society.  When  it  was  objected 
that  Saint  Paul  had  spoken  of  certain  persons  whom  the 
Holy  Ghost  had  made  overseers  and  shepherds  of  the  faith- 
ful, it  was  answered  that  King  Henry  was  the  very  overseer, 
the  very  shepherd,  whom  the  Holy  Ghost  had  appointed,  and 
to  whom  the  expressions  of  Saint  Paul  applied.* 

These  high  pretensions  gave  scandal  to  Protestants  as  well 
as  to  Catholics ;  and  the  scandal  was  greatly  increased  when 
the  supremacy,  which  Mary  had  resigned  back  to  the  Pope, 
was  again  annexed  to  the  crown,  on  the  accession  of  Eliza- 
beth. It  seemed  monstrous  that  a  woman  should  be  the 
chief  bishop  of  a  Church  in  which  an  apostle  had  forbidden 
her  even  to  let  her  voice  be  heard.  The  Queen,  therefore, 
found  it  necessary  expressly  to  disclaim  that  sacerdotal  char- 
acter which  her  father  had  assumed,  and  which,  according  to 
Cranmer,  had  been  inseparably  joined,  by  divine  ordinance, 
to  the  regal  function.  When  the  Anglican  Confession  of 
Faith  was  revised  in  her  reign,  the  supremacy  was  explained 
in  a  manner  somewhat  different  from  that  which  had  been 
fashionable  at  the  court  of  Henry.  Cranmer  had  declared, 
in  emphatic  terms,  that  God  had  immediately  committed  to 
Christian  princes  the  whole  cure  of  all  their  subjects,  as  well 
concerning  the  administration  of  God's  word  for  the  cure  of 
souls,  as  concerning  the  administration  of  things  political.f 
The  thirty -seven  tli  article  of  religion,  framed  under  Eliza- 
beth, declares,  in  terms  as  emphatic,  that  the  ministering  of 
God's  word  does  not  belong  to  princes.  The  Queen,  how- 
ever, still  had  over  the  Church  a  visitatorial  power  of  vast 
and  undefined  extent.  She  was  intrusted  by  Parliament  with 
the  office  of  restraining  and  punishing  heresy  and  every  sort 

*  See  a  very  curious  paper  which  Strype  believed  to  be  in  Gardiner's  handwrit- 
ing. Ecclesiastical  Memorials,  Book  I.,  Chap.  xvii. 

f  These  are  Cranmer's  own  words.  See  the  Appendix  to  Burnet's  History  of 
the  Reformation,  Part  I.,  Book  III.,  No.  21,  Question  9. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  63 

of  ecclesiastical  abuse,  and  was  permitted  to  delegate  her  au- 
thority to  commissioners.  The  Bishops  were  little  more  than 
her  ministers.  Rather  than  grant  to  the  civil  magistrate  the 
absolute  power  of  nominating  spiritual  pastors,  the  Church  of 
Rome,  in  the  eleventh  century,  set  all  Europe  on  fire.  Rather 
than  grant  to  the  civil  magistrate  the  absolute  power  of  nom- 
inating spiritual  pastors,  the  ministers  of  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land, in  our  own  time,  resigned  their  livings  by  hundreds. 
The  Church  of  England  had  no  such  scruples.  By  the  royal 
authority  alone  her  prelates  were  appointed.  By  the  royal 
authority  alone  her  convocations  were  summoned,  regulated, 
prorogued,  and  dissolved.  Without  the  royal  sanction  her 
canons  had  no  force.  One  of  the  articles  of  her  faith  was 
that  without  the  royal  consent  no  ecclesiastical  council  could 
lawfully  assemble.  From  all  her  judicatures  an  appeal  lay, 
in  the  last  resort,  to  the  sovereign,  even  when  the  question 
was  whether  an  opinion  ought  to  be  accounted  heretical,  or 
whether  the  administration  of  a  sacrament  had  been  valid. 
Nor  did  the  Church  grudge  this  extensive  power  to  our 
princes.  By  them  she  had  been  called  into  existence,  nursed 
through  a  feeble  infancy,  guarded  from  Papists  on  one  side 
and  from  Puritans  on  the  other,  protected  against  parlia- 
ments which  bore  her  no  good-will,  and  avenged  on  literary 
assailants  whom  she  found  it  .hard  to  answer.  Thus  grati- 
tude, hope,  fear,  common  attachments,  common  enmities, 
bound  her  to  the  throne.  All  her  traditions,  all  her  tastes, 
were  monarchical.  Loyalty  became  a  point  of  professional 
honor  among  her  clergy,  the  peculiar  badge  which  distin- 
guished them  at  once  from  Calvinists  and  from  Papists. 
Both  the  Calvinists  and  the  Papists,  widely  as  they  differed 
in  other  respects,  regarded  with  extreme  jealousy  all  encroach- 
ments of  the  temporal  power  on  the  domain  of  the  spiritual 
power.  Both  Calvinists  and  Papists  maintained  that  subjects 
might  justifiably  draw  the  sword  against  ungodly  rulers.  In 
France  Calvinists  resisted  Charles  the  Ninth :  Papists  resisted 
Henry  the  Fourth :  botli  Papists  and  Calvinists  resisted  Hen- 
ry the  Third.  In  Scotland  Calvinists  led  Mary  captive.  On 
the  north  of  the  Trent  Papists  took  arms  against  the  English 


64  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

throne.  The  Church  of  England  meantime  condemned  both 
Calvinists  and  Papists,  and  loudly  boasted  that  no  duty  was 
more  constantly  or  earnestly  inculcated  by  her  than  that  of 
submission  to  princes. 

The  advantages  which  the  crown  derived  from  this  close 
alliance  with  the  Established  Church  were  great ;  but  they 
were  not  without  serious  drawbacks.  The  compromise  ar- 
ranged by  Cranmer  had  from  the  first  been  considered  by  a 
large  body  of  Protestants  as  a  scheme  for  serving  two  mas- 
ters, as  an  attempt  to  unite  the  worship  of  the  Lord  with  the 
worship  of  Baal.  In  the  days  of  Edward  the  Sixth  the  scru- 
ples of  this  party  had  repeatedly  thrown  great  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  the  government.  When  Elizabeth  came  to  the 
throne  those  difficulties  were  much  increased.  Violence  nat- 
urally engenders  violence.  The  spirit  of  Protestantism  was 
therefore  far  fiercer  and  more  intolerant  after  the  cruelties  of 
Mary  than  before  them.  Many  persons  who  were 

The  Puritans.  •*.  ..,,,. 

warmly  attached  to  the  new  opinions  had,  during 
the  evil  days,  taken  refuge  in  Switzerland  and  Germany. 
They  had  been  hospitably  received  by  their  brethren  in  the 
faith,  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  the  great  doctors  of  Strasburg, 
Zurich,  and  Geneva,  and  had  been,  during  some  years,  accus- 
tomed to  a  more  simple  worship,  and  to  a  more  democrati- 
cal  form  of  church  government,  than  England  had  yet  seen. 
These  men  returned  to  their  country,  convinced  that  the  re- 
form which  had  been  effected  under  King  Edward  had  been 
far  less  searching  and  extensive  than  the  interests  of  pure 
religion  required.  But  it  was  in  vain  that  they  attempted 
to  obtain  any  concession  from  Elizabeth.  Indeed  her  system, 
wherever  it  differed  from  her  brother's,  seemed  to  them  to 
differ  for  the  worse.  They  were  little  disposed  to  submit, 
in  matters  of  faith,  to  any  human  authority.  They  had  re- 
cently, in  reliance  on  their  own  interpretation  of  Scripture, 
risen  up  against  a  Church  strong  in  immemorial  antiquity 
and  catholic  consent.  It  was  by  no  common  exertion  of 
intellectual  energy  that  they  had  thrown  off  the  yoke  of 
that  gorgeous  and  imperial  superstition ;  and  it  was  vain  to 
expect  that,  immediately  after  such  an  emancipation,  they 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  05 

would  patiently  submit  to  a  new  spiritual  tyranny.  Long 
accustomed,  when  the  priest  lifted  up  the  host,  to  bow  down 
with  their  faces  to  the  earth,  as  before  a  present  God,  they 
had  learned  to  treat  the  mass  as  an  idolatrous  mummery. 
Long  accustomed  to  regard  the  Pope  as  the  successor  of  the 
chief  of  the  apostles,  as  the  bearer  of  the  keys  of  earth  and 
heaven,  they  had  learned  to  regard  him  as  the  Beast,  the  An- 
tichrist, the  Man  of  Sin.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
they  would  immediately  transfer  to  an  upstart  authority  the 
homage  which  they  had  withdrawn  from  the  Vatican ;  that 
they  would  submit  their  private  judgment  to  the  authority 
of  a  Church  founded  on  private  judgment  alone ;  that  the}1 
would  be  afraid  to  dissent  from  teachers  who  themselves 
dissented  from  what  had  lately  been  the  universal  faith  of 
Western  Christendom.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  the  indignation 
which  must  have  been  felt  by  bold  and  inquisitive  spirits, 
glorying  in  newly  acquired  freedom,  when  an  institution 
younger  by  many  years  than  themselves,  an  institution  which 
had,  under  their  own  eyes,  gradually  received  its  form  from 
the  passions  and  interests  of  a  court,  began  to  mimic  the  lofty 
style  of  Rome. 

Since  these  men  could  not  be  convinced,  it  was  determined 
that  they  should  be  persecuted.  Persecution  produced  its 
Their repntii-  natural  effect  on  them.  It  found  them  a  sect: 
can  spirit.  ft  made  tjiem  &  factiOIK  TO  their  hatred  of  the 

Church  was  now  added  hatred  of  the  crown.  The  two  senti- 
ments were  intermingled ;  and  each  embittered  the  other. 
The  opinions  of  the  Puritan  concerning  the  relation  of  ruler 
and  subject  were  widely  different  from  those  which  were 
inculcated  in  the  Homilies.  His  favorite  divines  had,  both 
by  precept  and  by  example,  encouraged  resistance  to  tyrants 
and  persecutors.  His  fellow -Calvinists  in  France,  in  Hol- 
land, and  in  Scotland,  were  in  arms  against  idolatrous  and 
cruel  princes.  His  notions,  too,  respecting  the  government 
of  the  state  took  a  tinge  from  his  notions  respecting  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  Church.  Some  of  the  sarcasms  which  were 
popularly  thrown  upon  episcopacy  might,  without  much  dif- 
ficulty, be  turned  against,  royalty;  and  man}- of  the  arguments 
I.— 5 


66  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

which  were  used  to  prove  that  spiritual  power  was  best  lodged 
in  a  synod  seemed  to  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  temporal 
power  was  best  lodged  in  a  parliament. 

Thus,  as  the  priest  of  the  Established  Church  was,  from  in- 
terest, from  principle,  and  from  passion,  zealous  for  the  royal 
prerogatives,  the  Puritan  was,  from  interest,  from  principle, 
and  from  passion,  hostile  to  them.  The  power  of  the  discon- 
tented sectaries  was  great.  They  were  found  in  every  rank ; 
but  they  were  strongest  among  the  mercantile  classes  in  the 
towns,  and  among  the  small  proprietors  in  the  country.  Early 
NO  systematic  *n  tne  reign  of  Elizabeth  they  began  to  return  a  ma- 
o?  jority  of  the  House  of  Commons.  And  doubtless, 
nt  of  J1*^  our  ancestors  been  then  at  liberty  to  fix  their 
attention  entirely  on  domestic  questions,  the  strife 
between  the  crown  and  the  Parliament  would  instantly  have 
commenced.  But  that  was  no  season  for  internal  dissensions. 
It  might,  indeed,  well  be  doubted  whether  the  firmest  union 
among  all  the  orders  of  the  state  could  avert  the  common  dan- 
ger by  which  all  were  threatened.  Roman  Catholic  Europe  and 
reformed  Europe  were  struggling  for  death  or  life.  France, 
divided  against  herself,  had,  for  a  time,  ceased  to  be  of  any  ac- 
count in  Christendom.  The  English  government  was  at  the 
head  of  the  Protestant  interest,  and,  while  persecuting  Presby- 
terians at  home,  extended  a  powerful  protection  to  Presbyte- 
rian churches  abroad.  At  the  head  of  the  opposite  party  was 
the  mightiest  prince  of  the  age,  a  prince  who  ruled  Spain, 
Portugal,  Italy,  the  Netherlands,  the  East  and  the  West  Indies, 
whose  armies  repeatedly  marched  to  Paris,  and  whose  fleets 
kept  the  coasts  of  Devonshire  and  Sussex  in  alarm.  It  long 
seemed  probable  that  Englishmen  would  have  to  fight  desper- 
ately on  English  ground  for  their  religion  and  independence. 
Nor  were  they  ever  for  a  moment  free  from  apprehensions  of 
some  great  treason  at  home.  For  in  that  age  it  had  become 
a  point  of  conscience  and  of  honor  with  many  men  of  gener- 
ous natures  to  sacrifice  their  country  to  their  religion.  A 
succession  of  dark  plots,  formed  by  Roman  Catholics  against 
the  life  of  the  Queen  and  the  existence  of  the  nation,  kept 
society  in  constant  alarm.  Whatever  might  be  the  faults  of 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  67 

Elizabeth,  it  was  plain  that,  to  speak  humanly,  the  fate  of  the 
realm  and  of  all  reformed  churches  was  staked  on  the  secu- 
rity of  her  person  and  on  the  success  of  her  administration. 
To  strengthen  her  hands  was,  therefore,  the  first  duty  of  a  pa- 
triot and  a  Protestant ;  and  that  duty  was  well  performed. 
The  Puritans,  even  in  the  depths  of  the  prisons  to  which  she 
had  sent  them,  prayed,  and  with  no  simulated  fervor,  that  she 
might  be  kept  from  the  dagger  of  the  assassin,  that  rebell- 
ion might  be  put  down  under  her  feet,  and  that  her  arms 
might  be  victorious  by  sea  and  land.  One  of  the  most  stub- 
born of  the  stubborn  sect,  immediately  after  his  hand  had 
been  lopped  off  for  an  offence  into  which  he  had  been  hur- 
ried by  his  intemperate  zeal,  waved  his  hat  with  the  hand 
which  was  still  left  him,  and  shouted  "  God  save  the  Queen !" 
The  sentiment  with  which  these  men  regarded  her  has  de- 
scended to  their  posterity.  The  Non-conformists,  rigorously 
as  she  treated  them,  have,  as  a  body,  always  venerated  her 
memory.* 

During  the  greater  part  of  her  reign,  therefore,  the  Puri- 
tans in  the  House  of  Commons,  though  sometimes  mutinous, 
felt  no  disposition  to  array  themselves  in  systematic  opposi- 
tion to  the  government.  But,  when  the  defeat  of  the  Arma- 
da, the  successful  resistance  of  the  United  Provinces  to  the 
Spanish  power,  the  firm  establishment  of  Henry  the  Fourth 
on  the  throne  of  France,  and  the  death  of  Philip  the  Second, 
had  secured  the  State  and  the  Church  against  all  danger  from 
abroad,  an  obstinate  struggle,  destined  to  last  during  several 
generations,  instantly  began  at  home. 

It  was  in  the  Parliament  of  1601  that  the  opposition  which 
had,  during  forty  years,  been  silently  gathering  and  husband- 


*  The  Puritan  historian,  Neal,  after  censuring  the  cruelty  with  which  she  treat- 
ed the  sect  to  which  he  belonged,  concludes  thus  :  "  However,  notwithstanding  all 
these  blemishes,  Queen  Elizabeth  stands  upon  record  as  a  wise  and  politic  princess, 
for  delivering  her  kingdom  from  the  difficulties  in  which  it  was  involved  at  her  ac- 
cession, for  preserving  the  Protestant  reformation  against  the  potent  attempts  of 
the  Pope,  the  Emperor,  and  King  of  Spain  abroad,  and  the  Queen  of  Scots  and  her 
Popish  subjects  at  home.. . . .  She  was  the  glory  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived,  and 
will  be  the  admiration  of  posterity." — History  of  the  Puritans,  Part  I.,  Chap.  viii. 


68  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

ing  strength,  fought  its  first  great  battle  and  won  its  first 
Question  of  the  victory.  The  ground  was  well  chosen.  The  Eng- 
monopoiies.  jjg^  sovereigns  liad  always  been  intrusted  with  the 
supreme  direction  of  commercial  police.  It  was  their  un- 
doubted prerogative  to  regulate  coin,  weights,  and  measures, 
and  to  appoint  fairs,  markets,  and  ports.  The  line  which 
bounded  their  authority  over  trade  had,  as  usual,  been  but 
loosely  drawn.  They  therefore,  as  usual,  encroached  on  the 
province  which  rightfully  belonged  to  the  legislature.  The 
encroachment  was,  as  usual,  patiently  borne,  till  it  became  se- 
rious. But  at  length  the  Queen  took  upon  herself  to  grant 
patents  of  monopoly  by  scores.  There  was  scarcely  a  family 
in  the  realm  which  did  not  feel  itself  aggrieved  by  the  op- 
pression and  extortion  which  this  abuse  naturally  caused. 
Iron,  oil,  vinegar,  coal,  saltpetre,  lead,  starch,  yarn,  skins,  leath- 
er, glass,  could  be  bought  only  at  exorbitant  prices.  The 
House  of  Commons  met  in  an  angry  and  determined  mood. 
It  was  in  vain  that  a  courtly  minority  blamed  the  Speaker  for 
suffering  the  acts  of  the  Queen's  Highness  to  be  called  in 
question.  The  language  of  the  discontented  party  was  high 
and  menacing,  and  was  echoed  by  the  voice  of  the  whole  na- 
tion. The  coach  of  the  chief  minister  of  the  crown  was  sur- 
rounded by  an  indignant  populace,  wrho  cursed  the  monopo- 
lies, and  exclaimed  that  the  prerogative  should  not  be  suffer- 
ed to  touch  the  old  liberties  of  England.  There  seemed  for 
a  moment  to  be  some  danger  that  the  long  and  glorious  reign 
of  Elizabeth  would  have  a  shameful  and  disastrous  end.  She, 
however,  with  admirable  judgment  and  temper,  declined  the 
contest,  put  herself  at  the  head  of  the  reforming  party,  re- 
dressed the  grievance,  thanked  the  Commons,  in  touching  and 
dignified  language,  for  their  tender  care  of  the  general  weal, 
brought  back  to  herself  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  left  to 
her  successors  a  memorable  example  of  the  way  in  which  it 
behooves  a  ruler  to  deal  with  public  movements  which  he  has 
not  the  means  of  resisting. 

In  the  year  1603  the  great  Queen  died.  That  year  is,  on 
many  accounts,  one  of  the  most  important  epochs  in  our  his- 
tory. It  was  „  then  that  both  Scotland  and  Ireland  became 


CH.  I.  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  69 

parts  of  the  same  empire  with  England.  Both  Scotland  and 
scotiandand  Ireland,  indeed,  had  been  subjugated  by  the  Plan- 
tagencts ;  but  neither  country  had  been  patient 
under  the  yoke.  Scotland  had,  with  heroic  energy, 
England.  vindicated  her  independence ;  had,  from  the  time  of 
Robert  Bruce,  been  a  separate  kingdom  ;  and  was  now  joined 
to  the  southern  part  of  the  island  in  a  manner  which  rather 
gratified  than  wounded  her  national  pride.  Ireland  had  nev- 
er, since  the  days  of  Henry  the  Second,  been  able  to  expel  the 
foreign  invaders ;  but  she  had  struggled  against  them  long 
and  fiercely.  During  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries 
the  English  power  in  that  island  was  constantly  declining, 
and,  in  the  days  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  sank  to  the  lowest 
point.  The  Irish  dominions  of  that  prince  consisted  only  of 
the  counties  of  Dublin  and  Louth,  of  some  parts  of  Meath 
and  Kildare,  and  of  a  few  sea-ports  scattered  along  the  coast. 
A  large  portion  even  of  Leinster  was  not  yet  divided  into 
counties.  Munster,  Ulster,  and  Connaught  were  ruled  by 
petty  sovereigns,  partly  Celts,  and  partly  degenerate  Nor- 
mans, who  had  forgotten  their  origin  and  had  adopted  the 
Celtic  language  and  manners.  But,  during  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  English  power  had  made  great  progress.  The 
half-savage  chieftains  who  reigned  beyond  the  Pale  had  sub- 
mitted one  after  another  to  the  lieutenants  of  the  Tudors. 
At  length,  a  few  weeks  before  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  the 
conquest,  which  had  been  begun  more  than  four  hundred 
years  before  by  Strongbow,  was  completed  by  Mountjoy. 
Scarcely  had  James  the  First  mounted  the  English  throne 
when  the  last  O'Donnel  and  O'Neil  who  have. held  the  rank 
of  independent  princes  kissed  his  hand  at  Whitehall.  Thence- 
forward his  writs  ran  and  his  judges  held  assizes  in  every 
part  of  Ireland ;  and  the  English  law  superseded  the  customs 
which  had  prevailed  among  the  aboriginal  tribes. 

In  extent  Scotland  and  Ireland  were  nearly  equal  to  each 
other,  and  were  together  nearly  equal  to  England,  but  were 
much  less  thickly  peopled  than  England,  and  were  very  far 
behind  England  in  wealth  and  civilization.  Scotland  had 
been  kept  back  by  the  sterility  of  her  soil ;  and,  in  the  midst 


70  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

of  light,  the  thick  darkness  of  the  Middle  Ages  still  rested  on 
Ireland. 

The  population  of  Scotland,  with  the  exception  of  the  Cel- 
tic tribes  which  were  thinly  scattered  over  the  Hebrides  and 
over  the  mountainous  parts  of  the  northern  shires,  was  of 
the  same  blood  with  the  population  of  England,  and  spoke  a 
tongue  which  did  not  differ  from  the  purest  English  more 
than  the  dialects  of  Somersetshire  and  Lancashire  differed 
from  each  other.  In  Ireland,  on  the  contrary,  the  population, 
with  the  exception  of  the  small  English  colony  near  the  coast, 
was  Celtic,  and  still  kept  the  Celtic  speech  and  manners. 

In  natural  courage  and  intelligence  both  the  nations  which 
now  became  connected  with  England  ranked  high.  In  per- 
severance, in  self-command,  in  forethought,  in  all  the  virtues 
which  conduce  to  success  in  life,  the  Scots  have  never  been 
surpassed.  The  Irish,  on  the  other  hand,  were  distinguished 
by  qualities  which  tend  to  make  men  interesting  rather  than 
prosperous.  They  were  an  ardent  and  impetuous  race,  easily 
moved  to  tears  or  to  laughter,  to  fury  or  to  love.  Alone 
among  the  nations  of  Northern  Europe  they  had  the  suscep- 
tibility, the  vivacity,  the  natural  turn  for  acting  and  rhetoric, 
which  are  indigenous  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
In  mental  cultivation  Scotland  had  an  indisputable  superior- 
ity. Though  that  kingdom  was  then  the  poorest  in  Christen- 
dom, it  already  vied  in  every  branch  of  learning  with  the 
most  favored  countries.  Scotsmen,  whose  dwellings  and 
whose  food  were  as  wretched  as  those  of  the  Icelanders  of 
our  time,  wrote  Latin  verse  with  more  than  the  delicacy  of 
Vida,  and  made  discoveries  in  science  which  would  have  add- 
ed to  the  renown  of  Galileo.  Ireland  could  boast  of  no  Bu- 
chanan or  Napier.  The  genius  with  which  her  aboriginal  in- 
habitants were  largely  endowed  showed  itself  as  yet  only  in 
ballads  which,  wild  and  rugged  as  they  were,  seemed  to  the 
judging  eyes  of  Spenser  to  contain  a  portion  of  the  pure  gold 
of  poetry. 

Scotland,  in  becoming  part  of  the  British  monarchy,  pre- 
served her  dignity.  Having,  during  many  generations,  cour- 
ageously withstood  the  English  arms,  she  was  now  joined  to 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  71 

her  stronger  neighbor  on  the  most  honorable  terms.  She  gave 
a  king  instead  of  receiving  one.  She  retained  her  own  con- 
stitution and  laws.  Her  tribunals  and  parliaments  remained 
entirely  independent  of  the  tribunals  and  parliaments  which 
sat  at  Westminster.  The  administration  of  Scotland  was  in 
Scottish  hands;  for  no  Englishman  had  any  motive  to  emi- 
grate northward,  and  to  contend  with  the  shrewdest  and  most 
pertinacious  of  all  races  for  what  was  to  be  scraped  together 
in  the  poorest  of  all  treasuries.  Nevertheless  Scotland  by  no 
means  escaped  the  fate  ordained  for  every  country  which  is 
connected,  but  not  incorporated,  with  another  country  of 
greater  resources.  Though  in  name  an  independent  king- 
dom, she  was,  during  more  than  a  century,  really  treated,  in 
many  respects,  as  a  subject  province. 

Ireland  was  undisguisedly  governed  as  a  dependency  won 
by  the  sword.  Her  rude  national  institutions  had  perished. 
The  English  colonists  submitted  to  the  dictation  of  the  moth- 
er-country, without  whose  support  they  could  not  exist,  and 
indemnified  themselves  by  trampling  on  the  people  among 
whom  they  had  settled.  The  parliaments  which  met  at  Dub- 
lin could  pass  no  law  which  had  not  been  previously  approved 
by  the  English  Privy  Council.  The  authority  of  the  English 
legislature  extended  over  Ireland.  The  executive  adminis- 
tration was  intrusted  to  men  taken  either  from  England  or 
from  the  English  Pale,  and,  in  either  case,  regarded  as  foreign- 
ers, and  even  as  enemies,  by  the  Celtic  population. 

But  the  circumstance  which,  more  than  any  other,  has 
made  Ireland  to  differ  from  Scotland  remains  to  be  noticed. 
Scotland  was  Protestant.  In  no  part  of  Europe  had  the  move- 
ment of  the  popular  mind  against  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
been  so  rapid  and  violent.  The  Reformers  had  vanquished, 
deposed,  and  imprisoned  their  idolatrous  sovereign.  They 
would  not  endure  even  such  a  compromise  as  had  been  ef- 
fected in  England.  They  had  established  the  Calvinistic  doc- 
trine, discipline,  and  worship ;  and  they  made  little  distinc- 
tion between  Popery  and  Prelacy,  between  the  Mass  and  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer.  Unfortunately  for  Scotland,  the 
prince  whom  she  sent  to  govern  a  fairer  inheritance  had  been 


72  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

so  much  annoyed  by  the  pertinacity  with  which  her  theologi- 
ans had  asserted  against  him  the  privileges  of  the  synod  and 
the  pulpit,  that  he  hated  the  ecclesiastical  polity  to  which  she 
was  fondly  attached  as  much  as  it  was  in  his  effeminate  nature 
to  hate  anything,  and  had  no  sooner  mounted  the  English 
throne  than  he  began  to  show  an  intolerant  zeal  for  the  gov- 
ernment and  ritual  of  the  English  Church. 

The  Irish  were  the  only  people  of  Northern  Europe  who 
had  remained  true  to  the  old  religion.  This  is  to  be  partly 
ascribed  to  the  circumstance  that  they  were  some  centuries 
behind  their  neighbors  in  knowledge.  But  other  causes  had 
co-operated.  The  Reformation  had  been  a  national  as  well  as 
a  moral  revolt.  It  had  been,  not  only  an  insurrection  of  the 
laity  against  the  clergy,  but  also  an  insurrection  of  all  the 
branches  of  the  great  German  race  against  an  alien  domina- 
tion. It  is  a  most  significant  circumstance  that  no  large  soci- 
ety of  which  the  tongue  is  not  Teutonic  has  ever  turned  Prot- 
estant, and  that,  wherever  a  language  derived  from  that  of 
ancient  Rome  is  spoken,  the  religion  of  modern  Rome  to  this 
day  prevails.  The  patriotism  of  the  Irish  had  taken  a  pecul- 
iar direction.  The  object  of  their  animosity  was  not  Rome, 
but  England  ;  and  they  had  especial  reason  to  abhor  those  Eng- 
lish sovereigns  who  had  been  the  chiefs  of  the  great  schism, 
Henry  the  Eighth  and  Elizabeth.  During  the  vain  struggle 
which  two  generations  of  Milesian  princes  maintained  against 
the  Tndors,  religious  enthusiasm  and  national  enthusiasm  be- 
came inseparably  blended  in  the  minds  of  the  vanquished 
race.  The  new  feud  of  Protestant  and  Papist  inflamed  the  old 
feud  of  Saxon  and  Celt.  The  English  conquerors,  meanwhile, 
neglected  all  legitimate  means  of  conversion.  No  care  was 
taken  to  provide  the  vanquished  nation  with  instructors  capa- 
ble of  making  themselves  understood.  No  translation  of  the 
Bible  was  put  forth  in  the  Irish  language.  The  government 
contented  itself  with  setting  up  a  vast  hierarchy  of  Protestant 
archbishops,  bishops,  and  rectors,  who  did  nothing,  and  who, 
for  doing  nothing,  were  paid  out  of  the  spoils  of  a  Church 
loved  and  revered  by  the  great  body  of  the  people. 

There  was  much  in  the  state  both  of  Scotland  and  of  Ire- 


CH.L  BEFOKE   THE  RESTORATION.  73 

land  which  might  well  excite  the  painful  apprehensions  of  a 
far-sighted  statesman.  As  yet,  however,  there  was  the  appear- 
ance of  tranquillity.  For  the  first  time  all  the  British  isles 
were  peaceably  united  under  one  sceptre. 

It  should  seem  that  the  weight  of  England  among  Euro- 
pean nations  ought,  from  this  epoch,  to  have  greatly  increased. 
The  territory  which  her  new  King  governed  was,  in  extent, 
nearly  double  that  which  Elizabeth  had  inherited.  His  em- 
pire was  the  most  complete  within  itself  and  the  most  secure 
from  attack  that  was  to  be  found  in  the  world.  The  Plan- 
tagenets  and  Tudors  had  been  repeatedly  under  the  necessity 
of  defending  themselves  against  Scotland  while  they  were  en- 
gaged in  continental  war.  The  long  conflict  in  Ireland  had 
been  a  severe  and  perpetual  drain  on  their  resources.  Yet 
even  under  such  disadvantages  those  sovereigns  had  been 
highly  considered  throughout  Christendom.  It  might,  there- 
fore, not  unreasonably  be  expected  that  England,  Scotland, 
and  Ireland  combined  would  form  a  state  second  to  none  that 
then  existed. 

All  such  expectations  wrere  strangely  disappointed.     On  the 

day  of  the  accession  of  James  the  First,  England  descended 

from  the  rank  which  she  had  hitherto  held,  and  be- 

Diminution  of  ' 

the  importance  gan  to  be  regarded  as  a  power  hardly  of  the  second 

of  England  af-     *•  n   .       -, 

tertueacces-    order.     During  many  years  the  great  British  mon- 

sionofJamesI.  °  J    J  " 

archy,  under  tour  successive  princes  of  the  House 
of  Stuart,  was  scarcely  a  more  important  member  of  the  Eu- 
ropean system  than  the  little  kingdom  of  Scotland  had  previ- 
ously been.  This,  however,  is  little  to  be  regretted.  Of  James 
the  First,  as  of  John,  it  may  be  said  that,  if  his  administration 
had  been  able  and  splendid,  it  would  probably  have  been  fatal 
to  our  country,  and  that  we  owe  more  to  his  weakness  and 
meanness  than  to  the  wisdom  and  courage  of  much  better  sov- 
ereigns. He  came  to  the  throne  at  a  critical  moment.  The 
time  was  fast  approaching  when  either  the  King  must  become 
absolute,  or  the  Parliament  must  control  the  whole  executive 
administration.  Had  James  been,  like  Henry  the  Fourth,  like 
Maurice  of  Nassau,  or  like  Gustavus  Adolphus,  a  valiant,  ac- 
tive, and  polite  ruler,  had  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 


74  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Protestants  of  Europe,  had  lie  gained  great  victories  over 
Tilly  and  Spinola,  had  he  adorned  Westminster  with  the  spoils 
of  Bavarian  monasteries  and  Flemish  cathedrals,  had  lie  hung 
Austrian  and  Castilian  banners  in  Saint  Paul's,  and  had  he 
found  himself,  after  great  achievements,  at  the  head  of  fifty 
thousand  troops,  brave,  well  disciplined,  and  devotedly  attach- 
ed to  his  person,  the  English  Parliament  would  soon  have  been 
nothing  more  than  a  name.  Happily  he  was  not  a  man  to 
play  such  a  part.  He  began  his  administration  by  putting  an 
end  to  the  war  which  had  raged  during  many  years  between 
England  and  Spain ;  and  from  that  time  he  shunned  hostili- 
ties with  a  caution  which  was  proof  against  the  insults  of  his 
neighbors  and  the  clamor  of  his  subjects.  Not  till  the  last 
year  of  his  life  could  the  influence  of  his  son,  his  favorite,  his 
Parliament,  and  his  people  combined,  induce  him  to  strike 
one  feeble  blow  in  defence  of  his  family  and  of  his  religion. 
It  was  well  for  those  whom  he  governed  that  he  in  this  mat- 
ter disregarded  their  wishes.  The  effect  of  his  pacific  policy 
was  that,  in  his  time,  no  regular  troops  were  needed,  and  that, 
while  France,  Spain,  Italy,  Belgium,  and  Germany  swarmed 
with  mercenary  soldiers,  the  defence  of  our  island  was  still 
confided  to  the  militia. 

As  the  King  had  no  standing  army,  and  did  not  even  at- 
tempt to  form  one,  it  would  have  been  wise  in  him  to  avoid 
Doctrine  of  anJ  Ctmflict  with  his  people.  But  such  was  his  in- 
divine  right,  discretion,  that,  while  he  altogether  neglected  the 
means  which  alone  could  make  him  really  absolute,  he  con- 
stantly put  forward,  in  the  most  offensive  form,  claims  of 
which  none  of  his  predecessors  had  ever  dreamed.  It  was 
at  this  time  that  those  strange  theories  which  Filmer  after- 
ward formed  into  a  system,  and  which  became  the  badge  of 
the  most  violent  class  of  Tories  and  High -church  men,  first 
emerged  into  notice.  It  was  gravely  maintained  that  the 
Supreme  Being  regarded  hereditary  monarchy,  as  opposed  to 
other  forms  of  government,  with  peculiar  favor ;  that  the 
rule  of  succession  in  order  of  primogeniture  was  a  divine  in- 
stitution, anterior  to  the  Christian,  and  even  to  the  Mosaic 
dispensation ;  that  no  human  power,  not  even  that  of  the 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  75 

whole  legislature,  no  length  of  adverse  possession,  though  it 
extended  to  ten  centuries,  could  deprive  a  legitimate  prince 
of  his  rights ;  that  the  authority  of  such  a  prince  was  necessa- 
rily always  despotic ;  that  the  laws,  by  which,  in  England  and 
in  other  countries,  the  prerogative  was  limited,  were  to  be  re- 
garded merely  as  concessions  which  the  sovereign  had  freely 
made,  and  might  at  his  pleasure  resume ;  and  that  any  treaty 
which  a  king  might  conclude  with  his  people  was  merely  a 
declaration  of  his  present  intentions,  and  not  a  contract  of 
which  the  performance  could  be  demanded.  It  is  evident 
that  this  theory,  though  intended  to  strengthen  the  founda- 
tions of  government,  altogether  unsettles  them.  Does  the  di- 
vine and  immutable  law  of  primogeniture  admit  females,  or 
exclude  them  ?  On  either  supposition  half  the  sovereigns  of 
Europe  must  be  usurpers,  reigning  in  defiance  of  the  law  of 
God,  and  liable  to  be  dispossessed  by  the  rightful  heirs.  The 
doctrine  that  kingly  government  is  peculiarly  favored  by 
Heaven  receives  no  countenance  from  the  Old  Testament ; 
for  in  the  Old  Testament  we  read  that  the  chosen  people 
were  blamed  and  punished  for  desiring  a  king,  and  that  they 
were  afterward  commanded  to  withdraw  their  allegiance  from 
him.  Their  whole  history,  far  from  countenancing  the  no- 
tion that  succession  in  order  of  primogeniture  is  of  divine  in- 
stitution, would  rather  seem  to  indicate  that  younger  brothers 
are  under  the  especial  protection  of  Heaven.  Isaac  was  not 
the  eldest  son  of  Abraham,  nor  Jacob  of  Isaac,  nor  Judah  of 
Jacob,  nor  David  of  Jesse,  nor  Solomon  of  David.  Nor  does 
the  system  of  Filrrier  receive  any  countenance  from  those  pas- 
sages of  the  New  Testament  which  describe  government  as 
an  ordinance  of  God ;  for  the  government  under  which  the 
writers  of  the  New  Testament  lived  was  not  a  hereditary 
monarchy.  The  Roman  emperors  were  republican  magis- 
trates, named  by  the  senate.  None  of  them  pretended  to 
rule  by  right  of  birth ;  and,  in  fact,  both  Tiberius,  to  whom 
Christ  commanded  that  tribute  should  be  given,  and  Nero, 
whom  Paul  directed  the  Romans  to  obey,  were,  according  to 
the  patriarchal  theory  of  government,  usurpers.  In  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  the  doctrine  of  indefeasible  hereditary  right  would 


76  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

have  been  regarded  as  heretical ;  for  it  was  altogether  incom- 
patible with  the  high  pretensions  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  It 
was  a  doctrine  unknown  to  the  founders  of  the  Church  of 
England.  The  Homily  on  Wilful  Rebellion  had  strongly, 
and  indeed  too  strongly,  inculcated  submission  to  constituted 
authority,  but  had  made  no  distinction  between  hereditary 
and  elective  monarchies,  or  between  monarchies  and  repub- 
lics. Indeed  most  of  the  predecessors  of  James  would,  from 
personal  motives,  have  regarded  the  patriarchal  theory  of  gov- 
ernment with  aversion.  William  Rufus,  Henry  the  First, 
Stephen,  John,  Henry  the  Fourth,  Henry  the  Fifth,  Henry 
the  Sixth,  Richard  the  Third,  and  Henry  the  Seventh,  had  all 
reigned  in  defiance  of  the  strict  rule  of  descent.  A  grave 
doubt  hung  over  the  legitimacy  both  of  Mary  and  of  Eliza- 
beth. It  was  impossible  that  both  Catharine  of  Aragon  and 
Anne  Boleyn  could  have  been  lawfully  married  to  Henry 
the  Eighth ;  and  the  highest  authority  in  the  realm  had  pro- 
nounced that  neither  was  so.  The  Tudors,  far  from  consid- 
ering the  law  of  succession  as  a  divine  and  unchangeable 
institution,  wrere  constantly  tampering  with  it.  Henry  the 
Eighth  obtained  an  act  of  parliament,  giving  him  power  to 
leave  the  crown  by  will,  and  actually  made  a  will  to  the  prej- 
udice of  the  royal  family  of  Scotland.  Edward  the  Sixth,  un- 
authorized by  Parliament,  assumed  a  similar  power,  with  the 
full  approbation  of  the  most  eminent  Reformers.  Elizabeth, 
conscious  that  her  o%vn  title  was  open  to  grave  objection,  and 
unwilling  to  admit  even  a  reversionary  right  in  her  rival  and 
enemy,  the  Queen  of  Scots,  induced  the  Parliament  to  pass  a 
law,  enacting  that  whoever  should  deny  the  competency  of 
the  reigning  sovereign,  with  the  assent  of  the  estates  of  the 
realm,  to  alter  the  succession,  should  suffer  death  as  a  traitor. 
But  the  situation  of  James  was  widely  different  from  that  of 
Elizabeth.  Far  inferior  to  her  in  abilities  and  in  popularity, 
regarded  by  the  English  as  an  alien,  and  excluded  from  the 
throne  by  the  testament  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  the  King  of 
Scots  was  yet  the  undoubted  heir  of  William  the  Conqueror 
and  of  Egbert.  He  had,  therefore,  an  obvious  interest  in  in- 
culcating the  superstitious  notion  that  birth  confers  rights  an- 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  77 

terior  to  law,  and  unalterable  by  law.  It  was  a  notion,  more- 
over, well  suited  to  liis  intellect  arid  temper.  It  soon  found 
many  advocates  among  those  who  aspired  to  his  favor, and  made 
rapid  progress  among  the  clergy  of  the  Established  Church. 

Thus,  at  the  very  moment  at  which  a  republican  spirit  be- 
gan to  manifest  itself  strongly  in  the  Parliament  and  in  the 
country,  the  claims  of  the  monarch  took  a  monstrous  form 
which  would  have  disgusted  the  proudest  and  most  arbitrary 
of  those  who  had  preceded  him  an  the  throne. 

James  was  always  boasting  of  his  skill  in  what  he  called 
kingcraft ;  and  yet  it  is  hardly  possible  even  to  imagine  a 
course  more  directly  opposed  to  all  the  rules  of  kingcraft 
than  that  which  he  followed.  The  policy  of  wise  rulers  has 
always  been  to  disguise  strong  acts  under  popular  forms.  It 
was  thus  that  Augustus  and  Kapoleon  established  absolute 
monarchies,  while  the  public  regarded  them  merely  as  emi- 
nent citizens  invested  with  temporary  magistracies.  The  pol- 
icy of  James  was  the  direct  reverse  of  theirs.  He  enraged 
and  alarmed  his  Parliament  by  constantly  telling  them  that 
they  held  their  privileges  merely  during  his  pleasure,  and  that 
they  had  no  more  business  to  inquire  what  he  might  lawfully 
do  than  what  the  Deity  might  lawfully  do.  Yet  he  quailed 
before  them,  abandoned  minister  after  minister  to  their  ven- 
geance, and  suffered  them  to  tease  him  into  acts  directly  op- 
posed to  his  strongest  inclinations.  Thus  the  indignation  ex- 
cited by  his  claims  and  the  scorn  excited  by  his  concessions 
went  on  growing  together.  By  his  fondness  for  worthless 
minions,  and  by  the  sanction  which  he  gave  to  their  tyranny 
and  rapacity,  he  kept  discontent  constantly  alive.  His  cow- 
ardice, his  childishness,  his  pedantry,  his  ungainly  person  and 
manners,  his  provincial  accent,  made  him  an  object  of  de- 
rision. Even  in  his  virtues  and  accomplishments  there 
was  something  eminently  unkingly.  Throughout  the  whole 
course  of  his  reign,  all  the  venerable  associations  by  which 
the  throne  had  long  been  fenced  were  gradually  losing  their 
strength.  During  two  hundred  years  all  the  sovereigns  who 
had  ruled  England,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Henry  the  Sixth,  had  been  strong-minded,  high-spirited, 


78  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  L 

courageous,  and  of  princely  bearing.  Almost  all  had  possess- 
ed abilities  above  the  ordinary  level.  It  was  no  light  thing 
that,  on  the  very  eve  of  the  decisive  struggle  between  our 
kings  and  their  parliaments,  royalty  should  be  exhibited  to 
the  world  stammering,  slobbering,  shedding  unmanly  tears, 
trembling  at  a  drawn  sword,  and  talking  in  the  style  alternate- 
ly of  a  buffoon  and  of  a  pedagogue. 

In  the  mean  time  the  religious  dissensions,  by  which,  from 
the  days  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  the  Protestant  body  had  been 
The  separation  distracted,  had  become  more  formidable  than  ever. 
churechna«d  The  interval  which  had  separated  the  first  gener- 
!woo1mestans  ation  of  Puritans  from  Cranmer  and  Jewel  was 
small  indeed  when  compared  with  the  interval 
which  separated  the  third  generation  of  Puritans  from  Laud 
and  Hammond.  While  the  recollection  of  Mary's  cruelties 
was  still  fresh,  while  the  power  of  the  Roman  Catholic  party 
still  inspired  apprehension,  while  Spain  still  retained  ascen- 
dency and  aspired  to  universal  dominion,  all  the  reformed 
sects  knew  that  they  had  a  strong  common  interest  and  a 
deadly  common  enemy.  The  animosity  which  they  felt  to- 
ward each  other  was  languid  when  compared  with  the  ani- 
mosity which  they  all  felt  toward  Rome.  Conformists  and 
Non-conformists  had  heartily  joined  in  enacting  penal  laws 
of  extreme  severity  against  the  Papists.  But  when  more 
than  half  a  century  of  undisturbed  possession  had  given  con- 
fidence to  the  Established  Church,  when  nine-tenths  of  the 
nation  had  become  heartily  Protestant,  when  England  was  at 
peace  with  all  the  world,  when  there  was  no  danger  that 
Popery  would  be  forced  by  foreign  arms  on  the  nation,  wrhen 
the  last  confessors  who  had  stood  before  Bonner  had  passed 
away,  a  change  took  place  in  the  feeling  of  the  Anglican  cler- 
gy. Their  hostility  to  the  Roman  Catholic  doctrine  and  dis- 
cipline was  considerably  mitigated.  Their  dislike  of  the  Pu- 
ritans, on  the  other  hand,  increased  daily.  The  controversies 
which  had  from  the  beginning  divided  the  Protestant  party 
took  such  a  form  as  made  reconciliation  hopeless ;  and  new 
controversies  of  still  greater  importance  were  added  to  the 
old  subjects  of  dispute. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  79 

The  founders  of  the  Anglican  Church  had  retained  episco- 
pacy as  an  ancient,  a,  decent,  and  a  convenient  ecclesiastical 
polity,  but  had  not  declared  that  form  of  Church  government 
to  be  of  divine  institution.  We  have  already  seen  how  low 
an  estimate  Cranmer  had  formed  of  the  office  of  a  bishop. 
In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  Jewel,  Cooper,  Whitgift,  and  other 
eminent  doctors  defended  prelacy,  as  innocent,  as  useful,  as 
what  the  state  might  lawfully  establish,  as  what,  when  estab- 
lished by  the  state,  was  entitled  to  the  respect  of  every  citi- 
zen. But  they  never  denied  that  a  Christian  community 
without  a  bishop  might  be  a  pure  Church.*  On  the  contrary, 
they  regarded  the  Protestants  of  the  Continent  as  of  the  same 
household  of  faith  with  themselves.  Englishmen  in  England 
were  indeed  bound  to  acknowledge  the  authority  of  the  Bish- 
op, as  they  were  bound  to  acknowledge  the  authority  of  the 
Sheriff  and  of  the  Coroner:  but  the  obligation  was  purely 
local.  An  English  Churchman,  nay,  even  an  English  prel- 
ate, if  he  went  to  Holland,  conformed  without  scruple  to  the 
established  religion  of  Holland.  Abroad  the  ambassadors  of 
Elizabeth  arid  James  went  in  state  to  the  very  worship  which 
Elizabeth  and  James  persecuted  at  home,  and  carefully  ab- 
stained from  decorating  their  private  chapels  after  the  An- 

*  On  this  subject,  Bishop  Cooper's  language  is  remarkably  clear  and  strong.  He 
maintains,  in  his  Answer  to  Martin  Marprelate,  printed  in  1589,  that  no  form  of 
Church  government  is  divinely  ordained ;  that  Protestant  communities,  in  estab- 
lishing different  forms,  have  only  made  a  legitimate  use  of  their  Christian  liberty ; 
and  that  episcopacy  is  peculiarly  suited  to  England,  because  the  English  constitu- 
tion is  monarchical.  "  All  those  Churches,"  says  the  Bishop,  "  in  which  the  Gos- 
pell,  in  these  dales,  after  great  darknesse,  was  first  renewed,  and  the  learned  men 
whom  God  sent  to  instruct  them,  I  doubt  not  but  have  been  directed  by  the  Spirite 
of  God  to  retaine  this  liberty,  that,  in  external  government  and  other  out  ward1  or- 
ders, they  might  choose  such  as  they  thought  in  wisedome  and  godlinesse  to  be 
most  convenient  for  the  state  of  their  countrey  and  disposition  of  their  people. 
Why  then  should  this  liberty  that  other  countreys  have  used  under  anie  colour  be 
wrested  from  us  ?  I  think  it  therefore  great  presumption  and  boldnesse  that  some 
of  our  nation,  and  those,  whatever  they  may  think  of  themselves,  not  of  the  great- 
est wisedome  and  skill,  should  take  upon  them  to  controlle  the  whole  realme,  and 
to  binde  both  prince  and  people  in  respect  of  conscience  to  alter  the  present  state, 
and  tie  themselves  to  a  certain  platforme  devised  by  some  of  our  neighbours,  which, 
in  the  judgment  of  many  wise  and  godly  persons,  is  most  unfit  for  the  state  of  a 
Kingdome." 


80  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

glican  fashion,  lest  scandal  should  be  given  to  weaker  breth- 
ren. An  instrument  is  still  extant  by  which  the  Primate  of 
all  England,  in  the  year  1582,  authorized  a  Scotch  minister, 
ordained,  according  to  the  laudable  forms  of  the  Scotch 
Church,  by  the  Synod  of  East  Lothian,  to  preach  and  admin- 
ister the  sacraments  in  any  part  of  the  province  of  Canter- 
bury.* In  the  year  1603,  the  Convocation  solemnly  recog- 
nized the  Church  of  Scotland,  a  Church  in  which  episcopal 
control  and  episcopal  ordination  were  then  unknown,  as  a 
branch  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  of  Christ.f  It  was  even 
held  that  Presbyterian  ministers  were  entitled  to  place  and 
voice  in  oecumenicai  councils.  When  the  States-general  of 
the  United  Provinces  convoked  at  Dort  a  synod  of  doctors 
not  episcopally  ordained,  an  English  Bishop  and  an  English 
Dean,  commissioned  by  the  head  of  the  English  Church,  sat 
with  those  doctors,  preached  to  them,  and  voted  with  them 
on  the  gravest  questions  of  theology.:}:  Nay,  many  English 
benefices  were  held  by  divines  who  had  been  admitted  to  the 
ministry  in  the  Calvinistic  form  used  on  the  Continent ;  nor 
was  reordination  by  a  bishop  in  such  cases  then  thought  nec- 
essary, or  even  lawful.§ 

But  a  new  race  of  divines  was  already  rising  in  the  Church 
of  England.  In  their  view  the  episcopal  office  was  essential 
to  the  welfare  of  a  Christian  society  and  to  the  efficacy  of  the 
most  solemn  ordinances  of  religion.  To  that  office  belonged 

*  Strype's  Life  of  Grindal,  Appendix  to  Book  II.,  Xo.  17. 

f  Canon  55,  of  1603. 

\  Joseph  Hall,  then  Dean  of  Worcester,  and  afterward  Bishop  of  Norwich,  was 
one  of  the  commissioners.  In  his  life  of  himself,  he  says :  "  My  unworthiness  was 
named  for  one  of  the  assistants  of  that  honourable,  grave,  and  reverend  meeting." 
To  High-churchmen  this  humility  will  seem  not  a  little  out  of  place. 

§  It  was  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  passed  after  the  Restoration,  that  persons 
not  episcopally  ordained  were,  for  the  first  time,  made  incapable  of  holding  bene- 
fices. No  man  was  more  zealous  for  this  law  than  Clarendon.  Yet  he  says : 
"  This  was  new :  for  there  had  been  many,  and  at  present  there  were  some,  who 
possessed  benefices  with  cure  of  souls  and  other  ecclesiastical  promotions,  who  had 
never  received  orders  but  in  France  or  Holland ;  and  these  men  must  now  receive 
new  ordination,  which  had  been  always  held  unlawful  in  the  Church,  or  by  this  Act 
of  Parliament  must  be  deprived  of  their  livelihood  which  they  enjoyed  in  the  most 
flourishing  and  peaceable  time  of  the  Church." 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  81 

certain  high  and  sacred  privileges,  which  no  human  power 
could  give  or  take  away.  A  church  might  as  well  be  with- 
out the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  or  the  doctrine  of  the  Incar- 
nation, as  without  the  apostolical  orders ;  and  the  Church  of 
Rome,  which,  in  the  midst  of  all  her  corruptions,  had  retained 
the  apostolical  orders,  was  nearer  to  primitive  purity  than 
those  reformed  societies  which  had  rashly  set  up,  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  divine  model,  a  system  invented  by  men. 

In  the  days  of  Edward  the  Sixth  and  of  Elizabeth,  the  de- 
fenders of  the  Anglican  ritual  had  generally  contented  them- 
selves with  saying  that  it  might  be  used  without  sin,  and  that, 
therefore,  none  but  a  perverse  and  undutiful  subject  would 
refuse  to  use  it  when  enjoined  to  do  so  by  the  magistrate. 
Now,  however,  that  rising  party  which  claimed  for  the  polity 
of  the  Church  a  celestial  origin  began  to  ascribe  to  her  ser- 
vices a  new  dignity  and  importance.  It  was  hinted  that,  if 
the  established  worship  had  any  fault,  that  fault  was  extreme 
simplicity,  and  that  the  Reformers  had,  in  the  heat  of  their 
quarrel  with  Rome,  abolished  many  ancient  ceremonies  which 
might  with  advantage  have  been  retained.  Days  and  places 
were  again  held  in  mysterious  veneration.  Some  practices 
which  had  long  been  disused,  and  which  were  commonly  re- 
garded as  superstitious  mummeries,  were  revived.  Paintings 
and  carvings,  which  had  escaped  the  fury  of  the  lirst  genera- 
tion of  Protestants,  became  the  objects  of  a  respect  such  as  to 
many  seemed  idolatrous. 

No  part  of  the  system  of  the  old  Church  had  been  more 
detested  by  the  Reformers  than  the  honor  paid  to  celibacy. 
They  held  that  the  doctrine  of  Rome  on  this  subject  had  been 
prophetically  condemned  by  the  apostle  Paul,  as  a  doctrine 
of  devils ;  and  they  dwelt  much  on  the  crimes  and  scandals 
which  seemed  to  prove  the  justice  of  this  awful  denunciation. 
Luther  had  evinced  his  own  opinion  in  the  clearest  manner, 
by  espousing  a  nun.  Some  of  the  most  illustrious  bishops 
and  priests  who  had  died  by  fire  during  the  reign  of  Mary 
had  left  wives  and  children.  Now,  however,  it  began  to  be 
rumored  that  the  old  monastic  spirit  had  reappeared  in  the 
Church  of  England ;  that  there  was  in  high  quarters  a  preju- 

I.— G 


82  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

dice  against  married  priests;  that  even  laymen,  who  called 
themselves  Protestants,  had  made  resolutions  of  celibacy 
which  almost  amounted  to  vows ;  nay,  that  a  minister  of  the 
established  religion  had  set  up  a  nunnery,  in  which  the  Psalms 
were  chanted  at  midnight,  by  a  company  of  virgins  dedicated 
to  God.* 

Nor  was  this  all.  A  class  of  questions,  as  to  which  the 
founders  of  the  Anglican  Church  and  the  first  generation  of 
Puritans  had  differed  little  or  not  at  all,  began  to  furnish 
matter  for  fierce  disputes.  The  controversies  which  had  di- 
vided the  Protestant  body  in  its  infancy  had  related  almost 
exclusively  to  Church  government  and  to  ceremonies.  There 
had  been  no  serious  quarrel  between  the  contending  parties 
on  points  of  metaphysical  theology.  The  doctrines  held  by 
the  chiefs  of  the  hierarchy  touching  original  sin,  faith,  grace, 
predestination,  and  election,  were  those  which  are  popularly 
called  Calvinistic.  Toward  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  her 
favorite  prelate,  Archbishop  Whitgift,  drew  up,  in  concert 
with  the  Bishop  of  London  and  other  theologians,  the  cele- 
brated instrument  known  by  the  name  of  the  Lambeth  Arti- 
cles. In  that  instrument  the  most  startling  of  the  Calvinistic 
doctrines  are  affirmed  with  a  distinctness  which  would  shock 
many  who,  in  our  age,  are  reputed  Calvinists.  One  clergy- 
man, who  took  the  opposite  side,  and  spoke  harshly  of  Calvin, 
was  arraigned  for  his  presumption  by  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, and  escaped  punishment  only  by  expressing  his  firm 
belief  in  the  tenets  of  reprobation  and  final  perseverance,  and 
his  sorrow  for  the  offence  which  he  had  given  to  pious  men 
by  reflecting  on  the  great  French  reformer.  The  school  of 
divinity  of  which  Hooker  was  the  chief  occupies  a  middle 
place  between  the  school  of  Cranmer  and  the  school  of  Laud ; 
and  Hooker  has,  in  modern  times,  been  claimed  by  the  Ar- 
minians  as  an  ally.  Yet  Hooker  pronounced  Calvin  to  have 
been  a  man  superior  in  wisdom  to  any  other  divine  that 
France  had  produced,  a  man  to  whom  thousands  were  indebt- 

*  Packard's  Life  of  Ferrar ;  The  Arminian  Nunnery,  or  a  Brief  Description  of 
the  late  erected  monastical  Place  called  the  Arminian  Nunnery,  at  Little  Gidding 
in  Huntingdonshire,  1641. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  83 

ed  for  the  knowledge  of  divine  truth,  but  who  was  himself 
indebted  to  God  alone.  When  the  Arminian  controversy 
arose  in  Holland,  the  English  government  and  the  English 
Church  lent  strong  support  to  the  Calvinistic  party ;  nor  is 
the  English  name  altogether  free  from  the  stain  which  has 
been  left  on  that  party  by  the  imprisonment  of  Grotius  and 
the  judicial  murder  of  Barne veldt. 

But,  even  before  the  meeting  of  the  Dutch  synod,  that  part 
of  the  Anglican  clergy  which  was  peculiarly  hostile  to  the 
Calvinistic  Church  government  and  to  the  Calvinistic  worship 
had  begun  to  regard  with  dislike  the  Calvinistic  metaphysics ; 
and  this  feeling  was  very  naturally  strengthened  by  the  gross 
injustice,  insolence,  and  cruelty  of  the  party  which  was  preva- 
lent at  Dort.  The  Arminian  doctrine,  a  doctrine  less  austere- 
ly logical  than  that  of  the  early  Reformers,  but  more  agreeable 
to  the  popular  notions  of  the  divine  justice  and  benevolence, 
spread  fast  and  wide.  The  infection  soon  reached  the  court. 
Opinions  which,  at  the  time  of  the  accession  of  James,  no 
clergyman  could  have  avowed  without  imminent  risk  of  being 
stripped  of  his  gown,  wrere  now  the  best  title  to  preferment. 
A  divine  of  that  age,  who  was  asked  by  a  simple  country 
gentleman  what  the  Arminians  held,  answered,  with  as  much 
truth  as  wit,  that  they  held  all  the  best  bishoprics  and  dean- 
eries in  England. 

While  the  majority  of  the  Anglican  clergy  quitted,  in  one 
direction,  the  position  which  they  had  originally  occupied,  the 
majority  of, the  Puritan  body  departed,  in  a  direction  diamet- 
rically opposite,  from  the  principles  and  practices  of  their  fa- 
thers. The  persecution  which  the  separatists  had  undergone 
had  been  severe  enough  to  irritate,  but  not  severe  enough  to 
destroy.  They  had  been,  not  tamed  into  submission,  but 
baited  into  savageness  and  stubbornness.  After  the  fashion 
of  oppressed  sects,  they  mistook  their  own  vindictive  feelings 
for  emotions  of  piety,  encouraged  in  themselves  by  reading 
and  meditation  a  disposition  to  brood  over  their  wrongs,  and, 
when  they  had  worked  themselves  up  into  hating  their  ene- 
mies, imagined  that  they  were  only  hating  the  enemies  of 
Heaven.  In  the  New  Testament  there  was  little  indeed 


84:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I 

which,  even  when  perverted  by  the  most  disingenuous  expo- 
sition, could  seem  to  countenance  the  indulgence  of  malevo- 
lent passions.  But  the  Old  Testament  contained  the  history 
of  a  race  selected  by  God  to  be  witnesses  of  his  unity  and 
ministers  of  his  vengeance,  and  specially  commanded  by  him 
to  do  many  things  which,  if  done  without  his  special  command, 
would  have  been  atrocious  crimes.  In  such  a  history  it  was 
not  difficult  for  fierce  and  gloomy  spirits  to  find  much  that 
might  be  distorted  to  suit  their  wishes.  The  extreme  Puri- 
tans, therefore,  began  to  feel  for  the  Old  Testament  a  pref- 
erence, which,  perhaps,  they  did  not  distinctly  avow  even 
to  themselves,  but  which  showed  itself  in  all  their  sentiments 
and  habits.  They  paid  to  the  Hebrew  language  a  respect 
which  they  refused  to  that  tongue  in  which  the  discourses  of 
Jesus  and  the  epistles  of  Paul  have  come  down  to  us.  They 
baptized  their  children  by  the  names,  not  of  Christian  saints, 
but  of  Hebrew  patriarchs  and  wrarriors.  In  defiance  of  the 
express  and  reiterated  declarations  of  Luther  and  Calvin,  they 
turned  the  weekly  festival  by  which  the  Church  had,  from  the 
primitive  times,  commemorated  the  resurrection  of  her  Lord, 
into  a  Jewish  Sabbath.  They  sought  for  principles  of  juris- 
prudence in  the  Mosaic  law,  and  for  precedents  to  guide  their 
ordinary  conduct  in  the  books  of  Judges  and  Kings.  Their 
thoughts  and  discourse  ran  much  on  acts  which  were  assured- 
ly not  recorded  as  examples  for  our  imitation.  The  prophet 
who  hewed  in  pieces  a  captive  king;  the  rebel  general  who 
gave  the  blood  of  a  queen  to  the  dogs ;  the  matron  who,  in 
defiance  of  plighted  faith,  and  of  the  laws  of  Eastern  hospital- 
ity, drove  the  nail  into  the  brain  of  the  fugitive  ally  who  had 
just  fed  at  her  board,  and  who  was  sleeping  under  the  shadow 
of  her  tent,  were  proposed  as  models  to  Christians  suffering 
under  the  tyranny  of  princes  and  prelates.  Morals  and  man- 
ners were  subjected  to  a  code  resembling  that  of  the  syna- 
gogue, when  the  synagogue  was  in  its  worst  state.  The  dress, 
the  deportment,  the  language,  the  studies,  the  amusements  of 
the  rigid  sect  were  regulated  on  principles  not  unlike  those  of 
the  Pharisees,  who,  proud  of  their  washed  hands  and  broad 
phylacteries,  taunted  the  Eedeemer  as  a  Sabbath-breaker  and 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  85 

a  wine-bibber.  It  was  a  sin  to  hang  garlands  on  a  May-pole, 
to  drink  a  friend's  health,  to  fly  a  hawk,  to  hunt  a  stag,  to 
play  at  chess,  to  wear  lovelocks,  to  put  starch  into  a  ruff,  to 
touch  the  virginals,  to  read  the  Fairy  Queen.  Rules  such  as 
these,  rules  which  would  have  appeared  insupportable  to  the 
free  and  joyous  spirit  of  Luther,  and  contemptible  to  the  se- 
rene and  philosophical  intellect  of  Zwingle,  threw  over  all  life 
a  more  than  monastic  gloom.  The  learning  and  eloquence 
by  which  the  great  Reformers  had  been  eminently  distin- 
guished, and  to  which  they  had  been,  in  no  small  measure, 
indebted  for  their  success,  were  regarded  by  the  new  school  of 
Protestants  with  suspicion,  if  not  with  aversion.  Some  pre- 
cisians had  scruples  about  teaching  the  Latin  grammar,  be- 
cause the  names  of  Mars,  Bacchus,  and  Apollo  occurred  in  it. 
The  fine  arts  were  all  but  proscribed.  The  solemn  peal  of 
the  organ  was  superstitious.  The  light  music  of  Ben  Jon- 
son's  masques  was  dissolute.  Half  the  fine  paintings  in  Eng- 
land were  idolatrous,  and  the  other  half  indecent.  The  ex- 
treme Puritan  was  at  once  known  from  other  men  by  his  gait, 
his  garb,  his  lank  hair,  the  sour  solemnity  of  his  face,  the  up- 
turned white  of  his  eyes,  the  nasal  twang  with  which  he 
spoke,  and,  above  all,  by  his  peculiar  dialect.  He  employed, 
on  every  occasion,  the  imagery  and  style  of  Scripture.  He- 
braisms violently  introduced  into  the  English  language,  and 
metaphors  borrowed  from  the  boldest  lyric  poetry  of  a  remote 
age  and  country,  and  applied  to  the  common  concerns  of  Eng- 
lish life,  were  the  most  striking  peculiarities  of  this  cant, 
which  moved,  not  without  cause,  the  derision  both  of  Prela- 
tists  and  libertines. 

Thus  the  political  and  religious  schism  which  had  origina- 
ted in  the  sixteenth  century  was,  during  the  first  quarter  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  constantly  widening.  Theories  tend- 
ing to  Turkish  despotism  were  in  fashion  at  Whitehall.  The- 
ories tending  to  republicanism  were  in  favor  with  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  violent  Prelatists  who 
were,  to  a  man,  zealous  for  prerogative,  and  the  violent  Puri- 
tans who  were,  to  a  man,  zealous  for  the  privileges  of  Parlia- 
ment, regarded  each  other  with  animosity  more  intense  than 


86  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

that  which,  in  the  preceding  generation,  had  existed  between 
Catholics  and  Protestants. 

While  the  minds  of  men  were  in  this  state,  the  country, 
after  a  peace  of  many  years,  at  length  engaged  in  a  war  which 
required  strenuous  exertions.  This  war  hastened  the  approach 
of  the  great  constitutional  crisis.  It  was  necessary  that  the 
King  should  have  a  large  military  force.  He  could  not  have 
such  a  force  without  money.  He  could  not  legally  raise  mon- 
ey without  the  consent  of  Parliament.  It  followed,  therefore, 
that  he  either  must  administer  the  government  in  conformity 
with  the  sense  of  the  House  of  Commons,  or  must  venture  on 
such  a  violation  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  the  land  as  had 
been  unknown  during  several  centuries.  The  Plantagenets 
and  the  Tudors  had,  it  is  true,  occasionally  supplied  a  defi- 
ciency in  their  revenue  by  a  benevolence  or  a  forced  loan  ; 
but  these  expedients  were  always  of  a  temporary  nature.  To 
meet  the  regular  charge  of  a  long  war  by  regular  taxation, 
imposed  without  the  consent  of  the  estates  of  the  realm,  was 
a  course  which  Henry  the  Eighth  himself  would  not  have 
dared  to  take.  It  seemed,  therefore,  that  the  decisive  hour 
was  approaching,  and  that  the  English  Parliament  would  soon 
either  share  the  fate  of  the  senates  of  the  Continent,  or  ob- 
tain supreme  ascendency  in  the  state. 

Just  at  this  conjuncture  James  died.      Charles  the  First 

succeeded  to  the  throne.     He  had  received  from  nature  a  far 

better  understanding,  a  far  stronger  will,  and  a  far 

Accession  and  -         i  i  •       /•     i       «  TT 

character  of     keener  and  farmer  temper  than  Ins  fathers.     He 

Charles  I.  i      -i   •    i        •       T  i  •  t  i «   •  • 

had  inherited  his  father  s  political  theories,  and  was 
much  more  disposed  than  his  father  to  carry  them  into  prac- 
tice. He  was,  like  his  father,  a  zealous  Episcopalian.  He 
was,  moreover,  wrhat  his  father  had  never  been,  a  zealous  Ar- 
minian,  and,  though  no  Papist,  liked  a  Papist  much  better 
than  a  Puritan.  It  would  be  unjust  to  deny  that  Charles 
had  some  of  the  qualities  of  a  good,  and  even  of  a  great 
prince.  He  wrote  and  spoke,  not,  like  his  father,  with  the 
exactness  of  a  professor,  but  after  the  fashion  of  intelligent 
and  well-educated  gentlemen.  His  taste  in  literature  and 
art  was  excellent,  his  manner  dignified,  though  not  gracious, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  87 

his  domestic  life  without  blemish.  Faithlessness  was  the 
chief  cause  of  his  disasters,  and  is  the  chief  stain  on  his  mem- 
ory. He  was,  in  truth,  impelled  by  an  incurable  propensity 
to  dark  and  crooked  ways.  It  may  seem  strange  that  his  con- 
science, which,  on  occasions  of  little  moment,  was  sufficiently 
sensitive,  should  never  have  reproached  him  with  this  great 
vice.  But  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  he  was  perfidious, 
not  only  from  constitution  and  from  habit,  but  also  on  princi- 
ple. He  seems  to  have  learned  from  the  theologians  whom 
he  most  esteemed  that  between  him  and  his  subjects  there 
could  be  nothing  of  the  nature  of  mutual  contract ;  that  he 
could  not,  even  if  he  would,  divest  himself  of  his  despotic  au- 
thority ;  and  that,  in  every  promise  which  he  made,  there  was 
an  implied  reservation  that  such  promise  might  be  broken  in 
case  of  necessity,  and  that  of  the  necessity  he  was  the  sole 
judge. 

And  now  began  that  hazardous  game  on  which  were  staked 
the  destinies  of  the  English  people.  It  was  played,  on  the 
Tactics  of  the  s^e  °f  tne  House  of  Commons,  with  keenness,  but 
the  Hoi""  o"  with  admirable  dexterity,  coolness,  and  persever- 
commons.  ance.  Great  statesmen  who  looked  far  behind 
them  and  far  before  them  were  at  the  head  of  that  assembly. 
They  were  resolved  to  place  the  King  in  such  a  situation  that 
he  must  either  conduct  the  administration  in  conformity  with 
the  wishes  of  his  parliament,  or  make  outrageous  attacks  on 
the  most  sacred  principles  of  the  constitution.  They  accord- 
ingly doled  out  supplies  to  him  very  sparingly.  He  found 
that  he  must  govern  either  in  harmony  with  the  House  of 
Commons,  or  in  defiance  of  all  law.  His  choice  was  soon 
made.  He  dissolved  his  first  parliament,  and  levied  taxes  by 
his  own  authority.  He  convoked  a  second  parliament,  and 
found  it  more  intractable  than  the  first.  He  again  resorted 
to  the  expedient  of  dissolution,  raised  fresh  taxes  without  any 
show  of  legal  right,  and  threw  the  chiefs  of  the  opposition 
into  prison.  At  the  same  time,  a  new  grievance,  which  the 
peculiar  feelings  and  habits  of  the  English  nation  made  in- 
supportably  painful,  and  which  seemed  to  all  discerning  men 
to  be  of  fearful  augury,  excited  general  discontent  and  alarm. 


88  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,     ,  CH.  I. 

Companies  of  soldiers  were  billeted  on  the  people ;  and  mar- 
tial law  was,  in  some  places,  substituted  for  the  ancient  juris- 
prudence of  the  realm. 

The  King  called  a  third  Parliament,  and  soon  perceived 
that  the  opposition  was  stronger  and  fiercer  than  ever.  He 
Petition  of  now  determined  on  a  change  of  tactics.  Instead  of 
opposing  an  inflexible  resistance  to  the  demands  of 
the  Commons,  he,  after  much  altercation  arid  many  evasions, 
agreed  to  a  compromise  which,  if  he  had  faithfully  adhered  to 
it,  would  have  averted  a  long  series  of  calamities.  The  Par- 
liament granted  an  ample  supply.  The  King  ratified,  in  the 
most  solemn  manner,  that  celebrated  law,  which  is  known  by 
the  name  of  the  Petition  of  Right,  and  which  is  the  second 
Great  Charter  of  the  liberties  of  England.  By  ratifying  that 
law,  he  bound  himself  never  again  to  raise  money  without  the 
consent  of  the  Houses,  never  again  to  imprison  any  person, 
except  in  due  course  of  law,  and  never  again  to  subject  his 
people  to  the  jurisdiction  of  courts-martial. 

The  day  on  which  the  royal  sanction  was,  after  many  delays, 
solemnly  given  to  this  great  act,  was  a  day  of  joy  and  hope. 
The  Commons,  who  crowded  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords, 
broke  forth  into  loud  acclamations  as  soon  as  the  clerk  had 
pronounced  the  ancient  form  of  words  by  which  our  princes 
have,  during  many  ages,  signified  their  assent  to  the  wishes  of 
the  estates  of  the  realm.  Those  acclamations  were  re-echoed 
by  the  voice  of  the  capital  and  of  the  nation ;  but  within  three 
weeks  it  became  manifest  that  Charles  had  no  intention  of  ob- 
serving the  compact  into  which  he  had  entered.  The  supply 
given  by  the  representatives  of  the  nation  was  collected.  The 
promise  by  which  that  supply  had  been  obtained  was  broken. 
A  violent  contest  followed.  The  Parliament  was  dissolved 
with  every  mark  of  royal  displeasure.  Some  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished members  were  imprisoned ;  and  one  of  them,  Sir 
John  Eliot,  after  years  of  suffering,  died  in  confinement. 

Charles,  however,  could  not  venture  to  raise,  by  his  own  au- 
thority, taxes  sufficient  for  carrying  on  war.  He  accordingly 
hastened  to  make  peace  with  his  neighbors,  and  thenceforth 
gave  his  whole  mind  to  British  politics. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  89 

Now  commenced  a  new  era.  Many  English  kings  had  oc- 
casionally committed  unconstitutional  acts ;  but  none  had  ever 
systematically  attempted  to  make  himself  a  despot,  and  to  re- 
duce the  Parliament  to  a  nullity.  Such  was  the  end  which 
Charles  distinctly  proposed  to  himself.  From  March,  1629, 
to  April,  1640,  the  Houses  were  not  convoked.  Never  in  our 
history  had  there  been  an  interval  of  eleven  years  between 
parliament  and  parliament.  Only  once  had  there  been  an 
interval  of  even  half  that  length.  This  fact  alone  is  sufficient 
to  refute  those  who  represent  Charles  as  having  merely  trod- 
den in  the  footsteps  of  the  Plantagenets  and  Tudors. 

It  is  proved,  by  the  testimony  of  the  King's  most  strenuous 
supporters,  that,  during  this  part  of  his  reign,  the  provisions 
Petition  of  °f  the  Petition  of  Right  were  violated  by  him,  not 
uight  violated,  occasionally,  but  constantly,  and  on  system  ;  that  a 
large  part  of  the  revenue  was  raised  without  any  legal  author- 
ity ;  and  that  persons  obnoxious  to  the  government  languished 
for  years  in  prison,  without  being  ever  called  upon  to  plead 
before  any  tribunal. 

For  these  things  history  must  hold  the  King  himself  chiefly 
responsible.  From  the  time  of  his  third  Parliament  he  was 
his  own  prime  minister.  Several  persons,  however,  whose 
temper  and  talents  were  suited  to  his  purposes,  were  at  the 
head  of  different  departments  of  the  administration. 

Thomas  Wentworth,  successively  created  Lord  Wentworth 

and  Earl  of  Strafford,  a  man  of  great  abilities,  eloquence,  and 

courage,  but  of  a  cruel  and  imperious  nature,  was 

Character  and  L       . 

designs  of        the  counsellor  most  trusted  in  political  and  military 

Wentworth.  »    t,  -i  •      •  •   t       i 

affairs.  He  had  been  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
members  of  the  opposition,  and  felt  toward  those  whom  he 
had  deserted  that  peculiar  malignity  which  has,  in  all  ages, 
been  characteristic  of  apostates.  He  perfectly  understood  the 
feelings,  the  resources,  and  the  policy  of  the  party  to  which  he 
had  lately  belonged,  and  had  formed  a  vast  and  deeply  med- 
itated scheme  which  very  nearly  confounded  even  the  able 
tactics  of  the  statesmen  by  whom  the  House  of  Commons  had 
been  directed.  To  this  scheme,  in  his  confidential  correspond- 
ence, he  gave  the  expressive  name  of  Thorough.  His  object 


90  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

was  to  do  in  England  all,  and  more  than  all,  that  Richelieu 
was  doing  in  France ;  to  make  Charles  a  monarch  as  absolute 
as  any  on  the  Continent ;  to  put  the  estates  and  the  personal 
liberty  of  the  whole  people  at  the  disposal  of  the  crown ;  to 
deprive  the  courts  of  law  of  all  independent  authority,  even 
in  ordinary  questions  of  civil  right  between  man  and  man ; 
and  to  punish  with  merciless  rigor  all  who  murmured  at  the 
acts  of  the  government,  or  who  applied,  even  in  the  most  de- 
cent and  regular  manner,  to  any  tribunal  for  relief  against 
those  acts.* 

This  was  his  end ;  and  he  distinctly  saw  in  wrhat  manner 
alone  this  end  could  be  attained.  There  was,  in  truth,  about 
all  his  notions  a  clearness,  a  coherence,  a  precision,  which,  if 
he  had  not  been  pursuing  an  object  pernicious  to  his  country 
and  to  his  kind,  would  have  justly  entitled  him  to  high  admi- 
ration. He  saw  that  there  was  one  instrument,  and  only  one, 
by  which  his  vast  and  daring  projects  could  be  carried  into 
execution.  That  instrument  was  a  standing  army.  To  the 
forming  of  such  an  army,  therefore,  he  directed  all  the  energy 
of  his  strong  mind.  In  Ireland,  where  he  was  viceroy,  he  act- 
ually succeeded  in  establishing  a  military  despotism,  not  only 
over  the  aboriginal  population,  but  also  over  the  English  col- 
onists, and  was  able  to  boast  that,  in  that  island,  the  King  was 
as  absolute  as  any  prince  in  the  whole  world  could  be.f 

The  ecclesiastical  administration  was,  in  the  mean  time, 
principally  directed  by  William  Laud,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
characterof  bury.  Of  all  the  prelates  of  the  Anglican  Church, 
Laud-  Laud  had  departed  farthest  from  the  principles  of 

the  Reformation,  and  had  drawn  nearest  to  Rome.  His  the- 
ology was  more  remote  than  even  that  of  the  Dutch  Armini- 
ans  from  the  theology  of  the  Calvinists.  His  passion  for  cer- 

*  The  correspondence  of  Wentworth  seems  to  me  fully  to  bear  out  what  I  have 
said  in  the  text.  To  transcribe  all  the  passages  which  have  led  me  to  the  conclu- 
sion at  which  I  have  arrived,  would  be  impossible ;  nor  would  it  be  easy  to  make  a 
better  selection  than  has  already  been  made  by  Mr.  Hallam.  I  may,  however,  direct 
the  attention  of  the  reader  particularly  to  the  very  able  paper  which  Wentworth 
drew  up  respecting  the  affairs  of  the  Palatinate.  The  date  is  March  31,  1637. 

f  These  are  Went  worth's  own  words.  See  his  letter  to  Laud,  dated  Dec.  16, 
1634. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  91 

emonies,  his  reverence  for  holidays,  vigils,  and  sacred  places, 
his  ill -concealed  dislike  of  the  marriage  of  ecclesiastics,  the 
ardent  and  not  altogether  disinterested  zeal  with  which  he  as- 
serted the  claims  of  the  clergy  to  the  reverence  of  the  laity, 
would  have  made  him  an  object  of  aversion  to  the  Puritans, 
even  if  he  had  used  only  legal  and  gentle  means  for  the  at- 
tainment of  his  ends.  But  his  understanding  was  narrow; 
and  his  commerce  with  the  world  had  been  small.  He  was 
by  nature  rash,  irritable,  quick  to  feel  for  his  own  dignity, 
slow  to  sympathize  with  the  sufferings  of  others,  and  prone 
to  the  error,  common  in  superstitious  men,  of  mistaking  his 
own  peevish  and  malignant  moods  for  emotions  of  pious 
zeal.  Under  his  direction  every  corner  of  the  realm  was  sub- 
jected to  a  constant  and  minute  inspection.  Every  little  con- 
gregation of  separatists  was  tracked  out  and  broken  up. 
Even  the  devotions  of  private  families  could  not  escape  the 
vigilance  of  his  spies.  Such  fear  did  his  rigor  inspire,  that 
the  deadly  hatred  of  the  Church,  which  festered  in  innumer- 
able bosoms,  was  generally  disguised  under  an  outward  show 
of  conformity.  On  the  very  eve  of  troubles,  fatal  to  himself 
and  to  his  order,  the  Bishops  of  several  extensive  dioceses 
were  able  to  report  to  him  that  not  a  single  dissenter  was  to 
be  found  within  their  jurisdiction.* 

The  tribunals  afforded  no  protection  to  the  subject  against 
the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  tyranny  of  that  period.  The 
judges  of  the  common  law,  holding  their  situations  during 
the  pleasure  of  the  King,  were  scandalously  obsequious.  Yet, 
obsequious  as  they  were,  they  were  less  ready  and  less  efficient 
instruments  of  arbitrary  power  than  a  class  of  courts,  the 
memory  of  which  is  still,  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  two 
centuries,  held  in  deep  abhorrence  by  the  nation.  Foremost 

among  these  courts  in  power  and  in  infamy  were 
and  High  com-  the  Star-chamber  and  the  High  Commission,  the 

former  a  political,  the  latter  a  religious  inquisition. 
Neither  was  a  part  of  the  old  constitution  of  England.  The 
Star-chamber  had  been  remodelled,  and  the  High  Commis- 

*  See  his  report  to  Charles  for  the  year  1639. 


92  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

sion  created,  by  the  Tudors.  The  power  which  these  boards 
had  possessed  before  the  accession  of  Charles  had  been  exten- 
sive and  formidable,  but  had  been  small  indeed  when  com- 
pared with  that  which  they  now  usurped.  Guided  chiefly  by 
the  violent  spirit  of  the  primate,  and  freed  from  the  control 
of  Parliament,  they  displayed  a  rapacity,  a  violence,  a  malig- 
nant energy,  which  had  been  unknown  to  any  former  age. 
The  government  was  able,  through  their  instrumentality,  to 
line,  imprison,  pillory,  and  mutilate  without  restraint.  A  sep- 
arate council  which  sat  at  York,  under  the  presidency  of 
Wentworth,  was  armed,  in  defiance  of  law,  by  a  pure  act  of 
prerogative,  with  almost  boundless  power  over  the  northern 
counties.  All  these  tribunals  insulted  and  defied  the  authori- 
ty of  Westminster  Hall,  and  daily  committed  excesses  which 
the  most  distinguished  Royalists  have  warmly  condemned. 
"We  are  informed  by  Clarendon  that  there  was  hardly  a  man 
of  note  in  the  realm  who  had  not  personal  experience  of  the 
harshness  and  greediness  of  the  Star-chamber,  that  the  High 
Commission  had  so  conducted  itself  that  it  had  scarce  a  friend 
left  in  the  kingdom,  and  that  the  tyranny  of  the  Council  of 
York  had  made  the  Great  Charter  a  dead  letter  on  the  north 
of  the  Trent. 

The  government  of  England  was  now,  in  all  points  but  one, 
as  despotic  as  that  of  France.  But  that  one  point  was  all-im- 
portant. There  was  still  no  standing  army.  There  was, 
therefore,  no  security  that  the  whole  fabric  of  tyranny  might 
not  be  subverted  in  a  single  day ;  and,  if  taxes  were  imposed 
by  the  royal  authority  for  the  support  of  an  army,  it  was 
probable  that  there  would  be  an  immediate  and  irresistible 
explosion.  This  was  the  difficulty  which  more  than  any  oth- 
er perplexed  Wentworth.  The  Lord  Keeper  Finch,  in  con- 
cert with  other  lawyers  who  were  employed  by  the  govern- 
ment, recommended  an  expedient,  which  was  eagerly  adopted. 
The  ancient  princes  of  England,  as  they  called  on  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  counties  near  Scotland  to  arm  and  array  them- 
selves for  the  defence  of  the  border,  had  sometimes  called  on 
the  maritime  counties  to  furnish  ships  for  the  defence  of  the 
coast.  In  the  room  of  ships  money  had  sometimes  been  ac- 


Cir.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  93 

cepted.    This  old  practice  it  was  now  determined,  after  a  long 
interval,  not  only  to  revive,  but  to  extend.     For- 

Ship-money.  .  i      j         •       j      i  •  i  ,. 

mer  princes  had  raised  snip-money  only  in  time  of 
war :  it  was  now  exacted  in  a  time  of  profound  peace.  For- 
mer princes,  even  in  the  most  perilous  wars,  had  raised  ship- 
money  only  along  the  coasts :  it  was  now  exacted  from  the 
inland  shires.  Former  princes  had  raised  ship-money  only  for 
the  maritime  defence  of  the  country :  it  was  now  exacted,  by 
the  admission  of  the  Royalists  themselves,  with  the  object, 
not  of  maintaining  a  navy,  but  of  furnishing  the  king  with 
supplies  which  might  be  increased  at  his  discretion  to  any 
amount,  and  expended  at  his  discretion  for  any  purpose. 

The  whole  nation  was  alarmed  and  incensed.  John  Ilamp- 
den,  an  opulent  and  well-born  gentleman  of  Buckingham- 
shire, highly  considered  in  his  own  neighborhood,  but  as  yet 
little  known  to  the  kingdom  generally,  had  the  courage  to 
step  forward,  to  confront  the  whole  power  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  take  on  himself  the  cost  and  the  risk  of  disputing 
the  prerogative  to  which  the  King  laid  claim.  The  case  was 
argued  before  the  judges  in  the  Exchequer  Chamber.  So 
strong  were  the  arguments  against  the  pretensions  of  the 
crown  that,  dependent  and  servile  as  the  judges  were,  the 
majority  against  Hampden  was  the  smallest  possible.  Still 
there  was  a  majority.  The  interpreters  of  the  law  had  pro- 
nounced that  one  great  and  productive  tax  might  be  imposed 
by  the  royal  authority.  Wentworth  justly  observed  that  it 
was  impossible  to  vindicate  their  judgment  except  by  reasons 
directly  leading  to  a  conclusion  which  they  had  not  ventured 
to  draw.  If  money  might  legally  be  raised  without  the  con- 
sent of  Parliament  for  the  support  of  a  fleet,  it  was  not  easy 
to  deny  that  money  might,  without  consent  of  Parliament,  be 
legally  raised  for  the  support  of  an  army. 

The  decision  of  the  judges  increased  the  irritation  of  the 
people.  A  century  earlier,  irritation  less  serious  would  have 
produced  a  general  rising.  But  discontent  did  not  now  so 
readily  as  in  an  earlier  age  take  the  form  of  rebellion.  The 
nation  had  been  long  steadily  advancing  in  wealth  and  in  civ- 
ilization. Since  the  great  northern  earls  took  up  arms  against 


94  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Elizabeth  seventy  years  had  elapsed ;  and  during  those  sev- 
enty years  there  had  been  no  civil  war.  Never,  during  the 
whole  existence  of  the  English  nation,  had  so  long  a  period 
passed  without  intestine  hostilities.  Men  had  become  ac- 
customed to  the  pursuits  of  peaceful  industry,  and,  exas- 
perated as  they  were,  hesitated  long  before  they  drew  the 
sword. 

This  was  the  conjuncture  at  which  the  liberties  of  the  na- 
tion were  in  the  greatest  peril.  The  opponents  of  the  govern- 
ment began  to  despair  of  the  destiny  of  their  country ;  and 
many  looked  to  the  American  wilderness  as  the  only  asylum 
in  which  they  could  enjoy  civil  and  spiritual  freedom.  There 
a  few  resolute  Puritans,  who,  in  the  cause  of  their  religion, 
feared  neither  the  rage  of  the  ocean  nor  the  hardships  of  un- 
civilized life,  neither  the  fangs  of  savage  beasts  nor  the  toma- 
hawks of  more  savage  men,  had  built,  amidst  the  primeval 
forest,  villages  which  are  now  great  and  opulent  cities,  but 
which  have,  through  every  change,  retained  some  trace  of  the 
character  derived  from  their  founders.  The  government  re- 
garded these  infant  colonies  with  aversion,  and  attempted  vio- 
lently to  stop  the  stream  of  emigration,  but  could  not  prevent 
the  population  of  New  England  from  being  largely  recruited 
by  stout-hearted  and  God-fearing  men  from  every  part  of  the 
old  England.  And  now  Wentworth  exulted  in  the  near  pros- 
pect of  Thorough.  A  few  years  might  probably  suffice  for 
the  execution  of  his  great  design.  If  strict  economy  were 
observed,  if  all  collision  with  foreign  powers  were  carefully 
avoided,  the  debts  of  the  crown  would  be  cleared  off :  there 
would  be  funds  available  for  the  support  of  a  large  military 
force ;  and  that  force  would  soon  break  the  refractory  spirit 
of  the  nation. 

At  this  crisis  an  act  of  insane  bigotry  suddenly  changed 

the  whole  face  of  public  affairs.     Had  the  King  been  wise,  he 

would  have  pursued  a  cautious  and  soothing  policy 

Resistance  to  -i    n         -i        i      -n    i  i        A         i 

the  Liturgy  in  toward  Scotland  till  he  was  master  in  the  South. 

For  Scotland  was  of  all  his  kingdoms  that  in  which 

there  was  the  greatest  risk  that  a  spark  might  produce  a  flame, 

and  that  a  flame  might  become  a  conflagration.      Constitu- 


CH.  I.  BEFOEE  THE  KESTORATION.  95 

tional  opposition,  indeed,  such  as  lie  had  encountered  at  "West- 
minster, he  had  not  to  apprehend  at  Edinburgh.  The  Parlia- 
ment of  his  Northern  kingdom  was  a  very  different  body  from 
that  which  bore  the  same  name  in  England.  It  was  ill  con- 
stituted :  it  was  little  considered ;  and  it  had  never  imposed 
any  serious  restraint  on  any  of  his  predecessors.  The  three 
estates  sat  in  one  house.  The  commissioners  of  the  burghs 
were  considered  merely  as  retainers  of  the  great  nobles.  No 
act  could  be  introduced  till  it  had  been  approved  by  the  Lords 
of  Articles,  a  committee  which  was  really,  though  not  in  form, 
nominated  by  the  crown.  But,  though  the  Scottish  Parlia- 
ment was  obsequious,  the  Scottish  people  had  always  been 
singularly  turbulent  and  ungovernable.  They  had  butchered 
their  first  James  in  his  bedchamber :  they  had  repeatedly  ar- 
rayed themselves  in  arms  against  James  the  Second  :  they  had 
slain  James  the  Third  on  the  field  of  battle :  their  disobedi- 
ence had  broken  the  heart  of  James  the  Fifth :  they  had  de- 
posed and  imprisoned  Mary :  they  had  led  her  son  captive ; 
and  their  temper  was  still  as  intractable  as  ever.  Their  habits 
were  rude  and  martial.  All  along  the  southern  border,  and 
all  along  the  line  between  the  highlands  and  the  lowlands, 
raged  an  incessant  predatory  war.  In  every  part  of  the  coun- 
try men  were  accustomed  to  redress  their  wrongs  by  the 
strong  hand.  Whatever  loyalty  the  nation  had  anciently 
felt  to  the  Stuarts  had  cooled  during  their  long  absence. 
The  supreme  influence  over  the  public  mind  was  divided  be- 
tween two  classes  of  malcontents,  the  lords  of  the  soil  and 
the  preachers ;  lords  animated  by  the  same  spirit  which  had 
often  impelled  the  old  Douglasses  to  withstand  the  royal 
house,  and  preachers  who  had  inherited  the  republican  opin- 
ions and  the  unconquerable  spirit  of  Knox.  Both  the  na- 
tional and  religious  feelings  of  the  population  had  been 
wounded.  All  orders  of  men  complained  that  their  country, 
that  country  which  had,  with  so  much  glory,  defended  her 
independence  against  the  ablest  and  bravest  Plantagenets, 
had,  through  the  instrumentality  of  her  native  princes,  be- 
come in  effect,  though  not  in  name,  a  province  of  England. 
In  no  part  of  Europe  had  the  Calvinistic  doctrine  and  disci- 


90  HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

pline  taken  so  strong  a  hold  on  the  public  mind.  The  Church 
of  Rome  was  regarded  bj  the  great  body  of  the  people  with 
a  hatred  which  might  justly  be  called  ferocious;  and  the 
Church  of  England,  which  seemed  to  be  every  day  becoming 
more  and  more  like  the  Church  of  Rome,  was  an  object  of 
scarcely  less  aversion. 

The  government  had  long  wished  to  extend  the  Anglican 
system  over  the  whole  island,  and  had  already,  with  this  view, 
made  several  changes  highly  distasteful  to  every  Presbyteri- 
an. One  innovation,  however,  the  most  hazardous  of  all,  be- 
cause it  was  directly  cognizable  by  the  senses  of  the  common 
people,  had  not  yet  been  attempted.  The  public  worship  of 
God  was  still  conducted  in  the  manner  acceptable  to  the  na- 
tion. Now,  however,  Charles  and  Laud  determined  to  force 
on  the  Scots  the  English  Liturgy,  or  rather  a  liturgy  which, 
wherever  it  differed  from  that  of  England,  differed,  in  the 
judgment  of  all  rigid  Protestants,  for  the  worse. 

To  this  step,  taken  in  the  mere  wantonness  of  tyranny,  and 
in  criminal  ignorance  or  more  criminal  contempt  of  public 
feeling,  our  country  owes  her  freedom.  The  first  perform- 
ance of  the  foreign  ceremonies  produced  a  riot.  The  riot 
rapidly  became  a  revolution.  Ambition,  patriotism,  fanati- 
cism, were  mingled  in  one  headlong  torrent.  The  whole  na- 
tion was  in  arms.  The  power  of  England  was  indeed,  as  ap- 
peared some  years  later,  sufficient  to  coerce  Scotland :  but  a 
large  part  of  the  English  people  sympathized  with  the  relig- 
ious feelings  of  the  insurgents;  and  many  Englishmen  who 
had  no  scruple, about  antiphonies  and  genuflexions,  altars  and 
surplices,  saw  with  pleasure  the  progress  of  a  rebellion  which 
seemed  likely  to  confound  the  arbitrary  projects  of  the  court, 
and  to  make  the  calling  of  a  parliament  necessary. 

For  the  senseless  freak  which  had  produced  these  effects 
Wentworth  is  not  responsible.""  It  had,  in  fact,  thrown  all  his 
plans  into  confusion.  To  counsel  submission,  however,  was 
not  in  his  nature.  An  attempt  was  made  to  put  down  the 
insurrection  by  the  sword :  but  the  King's  military  means  and 


*  See  his  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  dated  July  30,  1638. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  97 

military  talents  were  unequal  to  the  task.     To  impose  fresh 
taxes  on  England  in  defiance  of  law  would,  at  this 

A  parliament  .  ° 

called  and  dis-  conjuncture,  have  been  madness.  IN  o  resource  was 
left  but  a  parliament ;  and  in  the  spring  of  1640  a 
parliament  was  convoked. 

The  nation  had  been  put  into  good-humor  by  the  prospect 
of  seeing  constitutional  government  restored,  and  grievances 
redressed.  The  new  House  of  Commons  was  more  temper- 
ate and  more  respectful  to  the  throne  than  any  which  had 
sat  since  the  death  of  Elizabeth.  The  moderation  of  this 
assembly  has  been  highly  extolled  by  the  most  distinguished 
Royalists,  and  seems  to  have  caused  no  small  vexation  and 
disappointment  to  the  chiefs  of  the  opposition ;  but  it  was 
the  uniform  practice  of  Charles,  a  practice  equally  impolitic 
and  ungenerous,  to  refuse  all  compliance  with  the  desires  of 
his  people,  till  those  desires  were  expressed  in  a  menacing 
tone.  As  soon  as  the  Commons  showed  a  disposition  to  take 
into  consideration  the  grievances  under  which  the  country 
had  suffered  during  eleven  years,  the  King  dissolved  the  Par- 
liament with  every  mark  of  displeasure. 

Between  the  dissolution  of  this  short-lived  assembly  and 
the  meeting  of  that  ever -memorable  body  known  by  the 
name  of  the  Long  Parliament,  intervened  a  few  months,  dur- 
ing which  the  yoke  was  pressed  down  more  severely  than 
ever  on  the  nation,  while  the  spirit  of  the  nation  rose  up  more 
angrily  than  ever  against  the  yoke.  Members  of  the  House 
of  Commons  were  questioned  by  the  Privy  Council  touching 
their  parliamentary  conduct,  and  thrown  into  prison  for  refus- 
ing to  reply.  Ship-money  was  levied  with  increased  rigor. 
The  Lord  Mayor  and  the  Sheriffs  of  London  were  threatened 
with  imprisonment  for  remissness  in  collecting  the  payments. 
Soldiers  were  enlisted  by  force.  Money  for  their  support  was 
exacted  from  their  counties.  Torture,  which  had  always 
been  illegal,  and  which  had  recently  been  declared  illegal  even 
by  the  servile  judges  of  that  age,  was  inflicted  for  the  last 
time  in  England  in  the  month  of  May,  1640. 

Everything  now  depended  on  the  event  of  the  King's  mili- 
tary operations  against  the  Scots.  Among  his  troops  there 

I.— 7 


98  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

was  little  of  that  feeling  which  separates  professional  soldiers 
from  the  mass  of  a  nation,  and  attaches  them  to  their  leaders. 
His  army,  composed  for  the  most  part  of  recruits,  who  regret- 
ted the  plough  from  which  they  had  been  violently  taken, 
and  who  were  imbued  with  the  religious  and  political  senti- 
ments then  prevalent  throughout  the  country,  was  more  for- 
midable to  himself  than  to  the  enemy.  The  Scots,  encour- 
aged by  the  heads  of  the  English  opposition,  and  feebly  re- 
sisted by  the  English  forces,  marched  across  the  Tweed  and 
the  Tyne,  and  encamped  on  the  borders  of  Yorkshire.  And 
now  the  murmurs  of  discontent  swelled  into  an  uproar  by 
which  all  spirits  save  one  were  overawed.  But  the  voice  of 
Strafford  was  still  for  Thorough ;  and  he,  even  in  this  ex- 
tremity, showed  a  nature  so  cruel  and  despotic,  that  his  own 
pikemen  were  ready  to  tear  him  in  pieces. 

There  was  yet  one  last  expedient  which,  as  the  King  flatter- 
ed himself,  might  save  him  from  the  misery  of  facing  anoth- 
er House  of  Commons.  To  the  House  of  Lords  he  was  less 
averse.  The  Bishops  were  devoted  to  him ;  and,  though  the 
temporal  peers  were  generally  dissatisfied  with  his  administra- 
tion, they  were,  as  a  class,  so  deeply  interested  in  the  mainte- 
nance of  order,  and  in  the  stability  of  ancient  institutions,  that 
they  were  not  likely  to  call  for  extensive  reforms.  Departing 
from  the  uninterrupted  practice  of  centuries,  he  called  a  Great 
Council  consisting  of  Lords  alone.  But  the  Lords  were  too 
prudent  to  assume  the  unconstitutional  functions  with  which 
he  wished  to  invest  them.  Without  money,  without  credit, 
without  authority  even  in  his  own  camp,  he  yielded  to  the 
pressure  of  necessity.  The  Houses  were  convoked ;  and  the 
elections  proved  that,  since  the  spring,  the  distrust  and  hatred 
with  which  the  government  was  regarded  had  made  fearful 
progress. 

In  November,  1640,  met  that  renowned  Parliament  which, 
The  Long  m  spite  of  many  errors  and  disasters,  is  justly  en- 

I'arliament.         tjt]e(j    t()    t]ie    reverence    an(J    gratitude    of    all    who, 

in  any  part  of  the  world,  enjoy  the  blessings  of  constitutional 
government. 

During  the  year  which  followed,  no  very  important  divis- 


Cn.  I.  BEFORE   THE  RESTORATION.  90 

ion  of  opinion  appeared  in  the  Houses.  The  civil  and  eccle- 
siastical administration  had,  through  a  period  of  near  twelve 
years,  been  so  oppressive  and  so  unconstitutional  that  even 
those  classes  of  which  the  inclinations  are  generally  on  the 
side  of  order  and  authority  were  eager  to  promote  popular 
reforms,  and  to  bring  the  instruments  of  tyranny  to  justice. 
It  was  enacted  that  no  interval  of  more  than  three  years 
should  ever  elapse  between  parliament  and  parliament,  and 
that,  if  writs  under  the  Great  Seal  were  not  issued  at  the 
proper  time,  the  returning  officers  should,  without  such  writs, 
call  the  constituent  bodies  together  for  the  choice  of  repre- 
sentatives. The  Star-chamber,  the  High  Commission,  the 
Council  of  York,  were  swept  away.  Men  who,  after  suffering 
cruel  mutilations,  had  been  confined  in  remote  dungeons,  re- 
gained their  liberty.  On  the  chief  ministers  of  the  crown  the 
vengeance  of  the  nation  was  unsparingly  wreaked.  The  Lord 
Keeper,  the  Primate,  the  Lord  -  lieutenant,  were  impeached. 
Finch  saved  himself  by  flight.  Laud  was  flung  into  the  Tow- 
er. Strafford  was  put  to  death  by  act  of  attainder.  On  the 
day  on  which  this  act  passed,  the  King  gave  his  assent  to  a 
law  by  which  he  bound  himself  not  to  adjourn,  prorogue,  or 
dissolve  the  existing  Parliament  without  its  own  consent. 

After  ten  months  of  assiduous  toil,  the  Houses,  in  Septem- 
ber, 1641,  adjourned  for  a  short  vacation ;  and  the  King  vis- 
ited Scotland.  He  with  difficulty  pacified  that  kingdom  by 
consenting,  not  only  to  relinquish  his  plans  of  ecclesiastical 
reform,  but  even  to  pass,  with  a  very  bad  grace,  an  act  declar- 
ing that  episcopacy  was  contrary  to  the  Word  of  God.  . 

The  recess  of  the  English  Parliament  lasted  six  weeks. 
The  day  on  which  the  Houses  met  again  is  one  of  the  most 
First  appear-  remarkable  epochs  in  our  history.  From  that  day 
great°Engnsh°  dates  the  corporate  existence  of  the  two  great  par- 
parties.  ^eg  ^yhich  nave  ever  since  alternately  governed  the 
country.  In  one  sense,  indeed,  the  distinction  which  then  be- 
came obvious  had  always  existed,  and  always  must  exist.  For 
it  has  its  origin  in  diversities  of  temper,  of  understanding,  and 
of  interest,  which  are  found  in  all  societies,  and  which  will  be 
found  till  the  human  mind  ceases  to  be  drawn  in  opposite  di- 


100  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

rections  by  the  charm  of  habit  and  by  the  charm  of  novelty. 
Not  only  in  politics,  but  in  literature,  in  art,  in  science,  in  sur- 
gery and  mechanics,  in  navigation  and  agriculture,  nay,  even 
in  mathematics,  we  iind  this  distinction.  Everywhere  there 
is  a  class  of  men  who  cling  with  fondness  to  whatever  is  an- 
cient, and  who,  even  when  convinced  by  overpowering  rea- 
sons that  innovation  would  be  beneficial,  consent  to  it  with 
many  misgivings  and  forebodings.  We  find  also  everywhere 
another  class  of  men,  sanguine  in  hope,  bold  in  speculation, 
always  pressing  forward,  quick  to  discern  the  imperfections 
of  whatever  exists,  disposed  to  think  lightly  of  the  risks  and 
inconveniences  which  attend  improvements,  and  disposed  to 
give  every  change  credit  for  being  an  improvement.  In  the 
sentiments  of  both  classes  there  is  something  to  approve.  But 
of  both  the  best  specimens  will  be  found  not  far  from  the 
common  frontier.  The  extreme  section  of  one  class  consists 
of  bigoted  dotards :  the  extreme  section  of  the  other  consists 
of  shallow  and  reckless  empirics. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  our  very  first  parliaments 
might  have  been  discerned  a  body  of  members  anxious  to  pre- 
serve, and  a  body  eager  to  reform.  But,  while  the  sessions  of 
the  legislature  were  short,  these  bodies  did  not  take  definite 
and  permanent  forms,  array  themselves  under  recognized  lead- 
ers, or  assume  distinguishing  names,  badges,  and  war-cries. 
During  the  first  months  of  the  Long  Parliament,  the  indig- 
nation excited  by  many  years  of  lawless  oppression  was  so 
strong  and  general  that  the  House  of  Commons  acted  as  one 
man.  Abuse  after  abuse  disappeared  without  a  struggle.  If 
a  small  minority  of  the  representative  body  wished  to  retain 
the  Star-chamber  and  the  High  Commission,  that  minority, 
overawed  by  the  enthusiasm  and  by  the  numerical  superiority 
of  the  reformers,  contented  itself  with  secretly  regretting  in- 
stitutions which  could  not,  with  any  hope  of  success,  be  open- 
ly defended.  At  a  later  period  the  Royalists  found  it  con- 
venient to  antedate  the  separation  between  themselves  and 
their  opponents,  and  to  attribute  the  act  which  restrained  the 
King  from  dissolving  or  proroguing  the  Parliament,  the  Tri- 
ennial Act,  the  impeachment  of  the  ministers,  and  the  attain- 


Cn.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  101 

der  of  Strafford,  to  the  faction  which  afterward  made  war  on 
the  King.  But  no  artifice  could  be  more  disingenuous.  Ev- 
ery one  of  those  strong  measures  was  actively  promoted  by 
the  men  who  were  afterward  foremost  among  the  Cavaliers. 
ISTo  republican  spoke  of  the  long  misgovernment  of  Charles 
more  severely  than  Colepepper.  The  most  remarkable  speech 
in  favor  of  the  Triennial  Bill  was  made  by  Digby.  The  im- 
peachment of  the  Lord  Keeper  was  moved  by  Falkland.  The 
demand  that  the  Lord-lieutenant  should  be  kept  close  prison- 
er was  made  at  the  bar  of  the  Lords  by  Hyde.  Not  till  the 
law  attainting  Strafford  was  proposed  did  the  signs  of  serious 
disunion  become  visible.  Even  against  that  law,  a  law  which 
nothing  but  extreme  necessity  could  justify,  only  about  sixty 
members  of  the  House  of  Commons  voted.  It  is  certain  that 
Hyde  was  not  in  the  minority,  and  that  Falkland  not  only 
voted  with  the  majority,  but  spoke  strongly  for  the  bill. 
Even  the  few  who  entertained  a  scruple  about  inflicting 
death  by  a  retrospective  enactment  thought  it  necessary  to 
express  the  utmost  abhorrence  of  Strafford's  character  and 
administration. 

But  under  this  apparent  concord  a  great  schism  was  latent ; 
and  when,  in  October,  1641,  the  Parliament  reassembled  after 
a  short  recess,  two  hostile  parties,  essentially  the  same  with 
those  which,  under  different  names,  have  ever  since  contend- 
ed, and  are  still  contending,  for  the  direction  of  public  affairs, 
appeared  confronting  each  other.  During  some  years  they 
were  designated  as  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads.  They  were 
subsequently  called  Tories  and  Whigs ;  nor  does  it  seem  that 
these  appellations  are  likely  soon  to  become  obsolete. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  compose  a  lampoon  or  a  pane- 
gyric on  either  of  these  renowned  factions.  For  no  man  not 
utterly  destitute  of  judgment  and  candor  will  deny  that  there 
are  many  deep  stains  on  the  fame  of  the  party  to  which  he 
belongs,  or  that  the  party  to  which  he  is  opposed  may  justly 
boast  of  many  illustrious  names,  of  many  heroic  actions,  and 
of  many  great  services  rendered  to  the  state.  The  truth  is, 
that,  though  both  parties  have  often  seriously  erred,  England 
could  have  Spared  neither.  If,  in  her  institutions,  freedom 


102  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

and  order,  the  advantages  arising  from  innovation  and  the 
advantages  arising  from  prescription,  have  been  combined  to 
an  extent  elsewhere  unknown,  we  may  attribute  this  happy 
peculiarity  to  the  strenuous  conflicts  and  alternate  victories 
of  two  rival  confederacies  of  statesmen,  a  confederacy  zeal- 
ous for  authority  and  antiquity,  and  a  confederacy  zealous 
for  liberty  and  progress. 

It  ought  to  be  remembered  that  the  difference  between  the 
two  great  sections  of  English  politicians  has  always  been  a 
difference  rather  of  degree  than  of  principle.  There  were 
certain  limits  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  which  were  very 
rarely  overstepped.  A  few  enthusiasts  on  one  side  were  ready 
to  lay  all  our  laws  and  franchises  at  the  feet  of  our  kings.  A 
few  enthusiasts  on  the  other  side  were  bent  on  pursuing, 
through  endless  civil  troubles,  their  darling  phantom  of  a 
republic.  But  the  great  majority  of  those  who  fought  for 
the  crown  were  averse  to  despotism ;  and  the  great  majority 
of  the  champions  of  popular  rights  were  averse  to  anarchy. 
Twice,  in  the  course  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  two 
parties  suspended  their  dissensions,  and  united  their  strength 
in  a  common  cause.  Their  first  coalition  restored  heredi- 
tary monarchy.  Their  second  coalition  rescued  constitutional 
freedom. 

It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  these  two  parties  have  never 
been  the  whole  nation,  nay,  that  they  have  never,  taken  to- 
gether, made  up  a  majority  of  the  nation.  Between  them  has 
always  been  a  great  mass,  which  has  not  steadfastly  adhered 
to  either,  which  has  sometimes  remained  inertly  neutral,  and 
which  has  sometimes  oscillated  to  and  fro.  That  mass  has 
more  than  once  passed  in  a  few  years  from  one  extreme  to 
the  other,  and  back  again.  Sometimes  it  has  changed  sides, 
merely  because  it  was  tired  of  supporting  the  same  men, 
sometimes  because  it  was  dismayed  by  its  own  excesses,  some- 
times because  it  had  expected  impossibilities,  and  had  been 
disappointed.  But,  whenever  it  has  leaned  with  its  whole 
weight  in  either  direction,  that  weight  has,  for  the  time, 
been  irresistible. 

When  the  rival  parties  first  appeared  in  a  distinct  form, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  103 

they  seemed  to  be  not  unequally  matched.  On  the  side  of 
the  government  was  a  large  majority  of  the  nobles,  and  of 
those  opulent  and  well  -  descended  gentlemen  to  whom  noth- 
ing was  wanting  of  nobility  but  the  name.  These,  with  the 
dependents  whose  support  they  could  command,  were  no 
small  power  in  the  state.  On  the  same  side  were  the  great 
body  of  the  clergy,  both  the  universities,  and  all  those  lay- 
men who  were  strongly  attached  to  episcopal  government 
and  to  the  Anglican  ritual.  These  respectable  classes  found 
themselves  in  the  company  of  some  allies  much  less  decorous 
than  themselves.  The  Puritan  austerity  drove  to  the  King's 
faction  all  who  made  pleasure  their  business,  who  affected  gal- 
lantry, splendor  of  dress,  or  taste  in  the  lighter  arts.  "With 
these  went  all  who  live  by  amusing  the  leisure  of  others, 
from  the  painter  and  the  comic  poet,  down  to  the  rope-dancer 
and  the  merry  -  andrew.  For  these  artists  well  knew  that 
they  might  thrive  under  a  superb  and  luxurious  despotism, 
but  must  starve  under  the  rigid  rule  of  the  precisians.  In 
the  same  interest  were  the  Roman  Catholics  to  a  man.  The 
Queen,  a  daughter  of  France,  was  of  their  own  faith.  Her 
husband  was  known  to  be  strongly  attached  to  her,  and  not  a 
little  in  awe  of  her.  Though  undoubtedly  a  Protestant  on 
conviction,  he  regarded  the  professors  of  the  old  religion  with 
no  ill-will,  and  would  gladly  have  granted  them  a  much  larger 
toleration  than  he  was  disposed  to  concede  to  the  Presbyteri- 
ans. If  the  opposition  obtained  the  mastery,  it  was  probable 
that  the  sanguinary  laws  enacted  against  Papists  in  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth  would  be  severely  enforced.  The  Roman  Cath- 
olics were  therefore  induced  by  the  strongest  motives  to  es- 
pouse the  cause  of  the  court.  They  in  general  acted  with  a 
caution  which  brought  on  them  the  reproach  of  cowardice 
and  lukewarmness ;  but  it  is  probable  that,  in  maintaining 
great  reserve,  they  consulted  the  King's  interest  as  well  as 
their  own.  It  was  not  for  his  service  that  they  should  be 
conspicuous  among  his  friends. 

The  main  strength  of  the  opposition  lay  among  the  small 
freeholders  in  the  country,  and  among  the  merchants  and 
shopkeepers  of  the  towns.  But  these  were  headed  by  a  for- 


104  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

midable  minority  of  the  aristocracy,  a  minority  which  in- 
cluded the  rich  and  powerful  Earls  of  Northumberland,  Bed- 
ford, Warwick,  Stamford,  and  Essex,  and  several  other  lords 
of  great  wealth  and  influence.  In  the  same  ranks  was  found 
the  whole  body  of  Protestant  Non-conformists,  and  most  of 
those  members  of  the  Established  Church  who  still  adhered 
to  the  Calvinistic  opinions  which,  forty  years  before,  had  been 
generally  held  by  the  prelates  and  clergy.  Th,e  municipal 
corporations  took,  with  few  exceptions,  the  same  side.  In  the 
House  of  Commons  the  opposition  preponderated,  but  not 
very  decidedly. 

Neither  party  wanted  strong  arguments  for  the  course 
which  it  was  disposed  to  take.  The  reasonings  of  the  most 
enlightened  Royalists  may  be  summed  up  thus:  "It  is  true 
that  great  abuses  have  existed  ;  but  they  have  been  redressed. 
It  is  true  that  precious  rights  have  been  invaded ;  but  they 
have  been  vindicated  and  surrounded  with  new  securities. 
The  sittings  of  the  estates  of  the  realm  have  been,  in  defi- 
ance of  all  precedent  and  of  the  spirit  of  the  constitution,  in- 
termitted during  eleven  years ;  but  it  has  now  been  provided 
that  henceforth  three  years  shall  never  elapse  without  a  par- 
liament. The  Star-chamber,  the  High  Commission,  the  Coun- 
cil of  York,  oppressed  and  plundered  us ;  but  those  hateful 
courts  have  now  ceased  to  exist.  The  Lord-lieutenant  aimed 
at  establishing  military  despotism ;  but  he  has  answered  for 
his  treason  with  his  head.  The  Primate  tainted  our  worship 
with  Popish  rites,  and  punished  our  scruples  with  Popish  cru- 
elty ;  but  he  is  awaiting  in  the  Tower  the  judgment  of  his 
peers.  The  Lord  Keeper  sanctioned  a  plan  by  which  the 
property  of  every  man  in  England  was  placed  at  the  mercy 
of  the  crown ;  but  he  has  been  disgraced,  ruined,  and  com- 
pelled to  take  refuge  in  a  foreign  land.  The  ministers  of 
tyranny  have  expiated  their  crimes.  The  victims  of  tyranny 
have  been  compensated  for  their  sufferings.  It  would,  there- 
fore, be  most  unwise  to  persevere  further  in  that  course  which 
was  justifiable  and  necessary  wrhen  we  first  met,  after  a  long 
interval,  and  found  the  whole  administration  one  mass  of 
abuses.  It  is  time  to  take  heed  that  we  do  not  so  pursue  our 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  105 

victory  over  despotism  as  to  run  into  anarchy.  It  was  not  in 
our  power  to  overturn  the  bad  institutions  which  lately  af- 
flicted our  country,  without  shocks  which  have  loosened  the 
foundations  of  government.  Now  that  those  institutions  have 
fallen,  we  must  hasten  to  prop  the  edifice  which  it  was  lately 
our  duty  to  batter.  Henceforth  it  wrill  be  our  wisdom  to  look 
with  jealousy  on  schemes  of  innovation,  and  to  guard  from 
encroachment  all  the  prerogatives  with  which  the  law  has,  for 
the  public  good,  armed  the  sovereign." 

Such  were  the  views  of  those  men  of  whom  the  excellent 
Falkland  may  be  regarded  as  the  leader.  It  wras  contended 
on  the  other  side  with  not  less  force,  by  men  of  not  less  ability 
and  virtue,  that  the  safety  which  the  liberties  of  the  English 
people  enjoyed  was  rather  apparent  than  real,  and  that  the 
arbitrary  projects  of  the  court  would  be  resumed  as  soon  as 
the  vigilance  of  the  Commons  was  relaxed.  True  it  was — 
such  was  the  reasoning  of  Pym,  of  Hollis,  and  of  Hampden — 
that  many  good  laws  had  been  passed :  but,  if  good  laws  had 
been  sufficient  to  restrain  the  King,  his  subjects  would  have 
had  little  reason  ever  to  complain  of  his  administration.  The 
recent  statutes  were  surely  not  of  more  authority  than  the 
Great  Charter  or  the  Petition  of  Right.  Yet  neither  the 
Great  Charter,  hallowed  by  the  veneration  of  four  centuries, 
nor  the  Petition  of  Right,  sanctioned,  after  mature  reflection, 
and  for  valuable  consideration,  by  Charles  himself,  had  been 
found  effectual  for  the  protection  of  the  people.  If  once  the 
check  of  fear  were  withdrawn,  if  once  the  spirit  of  opposition 
were  suffered  to  slumber,  all  the  securities  for  English  free- 
dom resolved  themselves  into  a  single  one,  the  royal  word ; 
and  it  had  been  proved  by  a  long  and  severe  experience  that 
the  royal  word  could  not  be  trusted. 

The  two  parties  were  still  regarding  each  other  with  cau- 
tious hostility,  and  had  not  yet  measured  their  strength,  when 
The  Irish  Re-  news  arrived  which  inflamed  the  passions  and  con- 
firmed the  opinions  of  both.  The  great  chieftains 
of  Ulster,  who,  at  the  time  of  the  accession  of  James,  had, 
after  a  long  struggle,  submitted  to  the  royal  authority,  had 
not  long  brooked  the  humiliation  of  dependence.  They  had 


106  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  I. 

conspired  against  the  English  government,  and  had  been  at- 
tainted of  treason.  Their  immense  domains  had  been  forfeit- 
ed to  the  crown,  and  had  soon  been  peopled  by  thousands  of 
English  and  Scotch  emigrants.  The  new  settlers  were,  in  civ- 
ilization and  intelligence,  far  superior  to  the  native  popula- 
tion, and  sometimes  abused  their  superiority.  The  animosity 
produced  by  difference  of  race  was  increased  by  difference  of 
religion.  Under  the  iron  rule  of  Wentworth,  scarcely  a  mur- 
mur was  heard ;  but,  when  that  strong  pressure  was  withdrawn, 
when  Scotland  had  set  the  example  of  successful  resistance, 
when  England  was  distracted  by  internal  quarrels,  the  smoth- 
ered rai?e  of  the  Irish  broke  forth  into  acts  of  fearful  violence. 

o 

On  a  sudden,  the  aboriginal  population  rose  on  the  colonists. 
A  war,  to  which  national  and  theological  hatred  gave  a  char- 
acter of  peculiar  ferocity,  desolated  Ulster,  and  spread  to  the 
neighboring  provinces.  The  castle  of  Dublin  was  scarcely 
thought  secure.  Every  post  brought  to  London  exaggerated 
accounts  of  outrages  which,  without  any  exaggeration,  were 
sufficient  to  move  pity  and  horror.  These  evil  tidings  roused 
to  the  height  the  zeal  of  both  the  great  parties  which  were 
marshalled  against  each  other  at  Westminster.  The  Royalists 
maintained  that  it  was  the  first  duty  of  every  good  English- 
man and  Protestant,  at  such  a  crisis,  to  strengthen  the  hands 
of  the  sovereign.  To  the  opposition  it  seemed  that  there 
were  now  stronger  reasons  than  ever  for  thwarting  and  re- 
straining him.  That  the  commonwealth  was  in  danger  was 
undoubtedly  a  good  reason  for  giving  large  powers  to  a  trust- 
worthy magistrate ;  but  it  was  a  good  reason  for  taking  away 
powers  from  a  magistrate  who  was  at  heart  a  public  enemy. 
To  raise  a  great  army  had  always  been  the  King's  first  object. 
A  great  army  must  now  be  raised.  It  was  to  be  feared  that, 
unless  some  new  securities  were  devised,  the  forces  levied  for 
the  reduction  of  Ireland  would  be  employed  against  the  liber- 
ties of  England.  Nor  was  this  all.  A  horrible  suspicion,  un- 
just indeed,  but  not  altogether  unnatural,  had  arisen  in  many 
minds.  The  Queen  was  an  avowed  Roman  Catholic:  the 
King  was  not  regarded  by  the  Puritans,  whom  he  had  merci- 
lessly persecuted,  as  a  sincere  Protestant ;  and  so  notorious 


CH.  I.  BEFOKE  THE  RESTORATION.  107 

was  his  duplicity,  that  there  was  no  treachery  of  which  his 
subjects  might  not,  with  some  show  of  reason,  believe  him 
capable.  It  was  soon  whispered  that  the  rebellion  of  the 
Roman  Catholics  of  Ulster  was  part  of  a  vast  work  of  dark- 
ness which  had  been  planned  at  Whitehall. 

After  some  weeks  of  prelude,  the  first  great  parliamentary 
conflict  between  the  parties,  which  have  ever  since  contended, 
The  remon-  and  are  still  contending,  for  the  government  of  the 
strance.  nation,  took  place  on  the  twenty-second  of  Novem- 
ber, 1641.  It  was  moved  by  the  opposition,  that  the  House 
of  Commons  should  present  to  the  King  a  remonstrance,  enu- 
merating the  faults  of  his  administration  from  the  time  of  his 
accession,  and  expressing  the  distrust  with  which  his  policy 
was  still  regarded  by  his  people.  That  assembly,  which  a  fe\v 
months  before  had  been  unanimous  in  calling  for  the  reform 
of  abuses,  was  now  divided  into  two  fierce  and  eager  factions 
of  nearly  equal  strength.  After  a  hot  debate  of  many  hours, 
the  remonstrance  was  carried  by  only  eleven  votes. 

The  result  of  this  struggle  was  highly  favorable  to  the  con- 
servative party.  It  could  not  be  doubted  that  only  some  great 
indiscretion  could  prevent  them  from  shortly  obtaining  the 
predominance  in  the  Lower  House.  The  Upper  House  was 
already  their  own.  Nothing  was  wanting  to  insure  their  suc- 
cess, but  that  the  King  should,  in  all  his  conduct,  show  respect 
for  the  laws  and  scrupulous  good  faith  toward  his  subjects. 

His  first  measures  promised  well.  He  had,  it  seemed,  at 
last  discovered  that  an  entire  change  of  system  was  necessary, 
and  had  wisely  made  up  his  mind  to  what  could  no  longer  be 
avoided.  He  declared  his  determination  to  govern  in  har- 
mony with  the  Commons,  and,  for  that  end,  to  call  to  his 
councils  men  in  whose  talents  and  character  the  Commons 
might  place  confidence.  Nor  was  the  selection  ill  made. 
Falkland,  Hyde,  and  Colepepper,  all  three  distinguished  by 
the  part  which  they  had  taken  in  reforming  abuses  and  in 
punishing  evil  ministers,  were  invited  to  become  the  confi- 
dential advisers  of  the  crown,  and  were  solemnly  assured  by 
Charles  that  he  would  take  no  step  in  any  way  affecting  the 
Lower  House  of  Parliament  without  their  privity. 


108  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Had  he  kept  this  promise,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
reaction  which  was  already  in  progress  would  very  soon  have 
become  quite  as  strong  as  the  most  respectable  Royalists 
would  have  desired.  Already  the  violent  members  of  the 
opposition  had  begun  to  despair  of  the  fortunes  of  their 
party,  to  tremble  for  their  own  safety,  and  to  talk  of  selling 
their  estates  and  emigrating  to  America.  That  the  fair  pros- 
pects which  had  begun  to  open  before  the  King  were  sudden- 
ly overcast,  that  his  life  was  darkened  by  adversity,  and  at 
length  shortened  by  violence,  is  to  be  attributed  to  his  own 
faithlessness  and  contempt  of  law. 

The  truth  seems  to  be  that  he  detested  both  the  parties 
into  which  the  House  of  Commons  was  divided :  nor  is  this 
strange ;  for  in  both  those  parties  the  love  of  liberty  and  the 
love  of  order  were  mingled,  though  in  different  proportions. 
The  advisers  whom  necessity  had  compelled  him  to  call  round 
him  were  by  no  means  men  after  his  own  heart.  They  had 
joined  in  condemning  his  tyranny,  in  abridging  his  power, 
and  in  punishing  his  instruments.  They  were  now  indeed 
prepared  to  defend  in  a  strictly  legal  way  his  strictly  legal 
prerogative ;  but  they  would  have  recoiled  with  horror  from 
the  thought  of  reviving  Wentworth's  projects  of  Thorough. 
They  were,  therefore,  in  the  King's  opinion,  traitors,  who  dif- 
fered only  in  the  degree  of  their  seditious  malignity  from 
Pym  and  Hampden. 

He  accordingly,  a  few  days  after  he  had  promised  the 
chiefs  of  the  constitutional  Royalists  that  no  step  of  impor- 
tance should  be  taken  without  their  knowledge, 

Impeachment  .  <•    f 

of  the  five  formed  a  resolution  the  most  momentous  of  his 
whole  life,  carefully  concealed  that  resolution  from 
them,  and  executed  it  in  a  manner  which  overwhelmed  them 
with  shame  and  dismay.  He  sent  the  Attorney-general  to 
impeach  Pym,  Hollis,  Hampden,  and  other  members  of  the 
House  of  Commons  of  high-treason  at  the  bar  of  the  House 
of  Lords.  Not  content  with  this  flagrant  violation  of  the 
Great  Charter  and  of  the  uninterrupted  practice  of  centuries, 
he  went  in  person,  accompanied  by  armed  men,  to  seize  the 
leaders  of  the  opposition  within  the  walls  of  Parliament. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  109 

The  attempt  failed.  The  accused  members  had  left  the 
House  a  short  time  before  Charles  entered  it.  A  sudden  and 
violent  revulsion  of  feeling,  both  in  the  Parliament  and  in  the 
country,  followed.  The  most  favorable  view  that  has  ever 
been  taken  of  the  King's  conduct  on  this  occasion  by  his  most 
partial  advocates  is  that  he  had  weakly  suffered  himself  to 
be  hurried  into  a  gross  indiscretion  by  the  evil  counsels  of 
his  wife  and  of  his  courtiers.  But  the  general  voice  loudly 
charged  him  with  far  deeper  guilt.  At  the  very  moment  at 
which  his  subjects,  after  a  long  estrangement  produced  by  his 
maladministration,  were  returning  to  him  with  feelings  of 
confidence  and  affection,  he  had  aimed  a  deadly  blow  at  all 
their  dearest  rights,  at  the  privileges  of  Parliament,  at  the 
very  principle  of  trial  by  jury.  He  had  shown  that  he  con- 
sidered opposition  to  his  arbitrary  designs  as  a  crime  to  be 
expiated  only  by  blood.  He  had  broken  faith,  not  only  with 
his  Great  Council  and  with  his  people,  but  with  his  own  ad- 
herents. He  had  done  what,  but  for  an  unforeseen  accident, 
would  probably  have  produced  a  bloody  conflict  round  the 
Speaker's  chair.  Those  who  had  the  chief  sway  in  the  Lower 
House  now  felt  that  not  only  their  power  and  popularity,  but 
their  lands  and  their  necks,  were  staked  on  the  event  of  the 
struggle  in  which  they  were  engaged.  The  flagging  zeal  of 
the  party  opposed  to  the  court  revived  in  an  instant.  During 
the  night  which  followed  the  outrage  the  whole  city  of  Lon- 
don was  in  arms.  In  a  few  hours  the  roads  leading  to  the 
capital  were  covered  with  multitudes  of  yeomen  spurring 
hard  to  Westminster  with  the  badges  of  the  parliamentary 
cause  in  their  hats.  In  the  House  of  Commons  the  opposi- 
tion became  at  once  irresistible,  and  carried,  by  more  than  two 
votes  to  one,  resolutions  of  unprecedented  violence.  Strong 
bodies  of  the  trainbands,  regularly  relieved,  mounted  guard 
round  Westminster  Hall.  The  gates  of  the  King's  palace 
were  daily  besieged  by  a  furious  multitude  whose  taunts  and 
execrations  were  heard  even  in  the  presence-chamber,  and 
who  could  scarcely  be  kept  out  of  the  royal  apartments  by 
the  gentlemen  of  the  household.  Had  Charles  remained 
much  longer  in  his  stormy  capital,  it  is  probable  that  the 


110  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Commons  would  have  found  a  plea  for  making  him,  under 
outward  forms  of  respect,  a  state-prisoner. 

He  quitted  London,  never  to  return  till  the  day  of  a  ter- 
rible and  memorable  reckoning  had  arrived.     A  negotiation 
be^an  which  occupied  many  months.     Accusations 

Departure  of  ...  111  i  i 

charies  from  and  recriminations  passed  backward  and  forward 
between  the  contending  parties.  All  accommoda- 
tion had  become  impossible.  The  sure  punishment  which 
waits  on  habitual  perfidy  had  at  length  overtaken  the  King. 
It  was  to  no  purpose  that  he  now  pawned  his  royal  word,  and 
invoked  Heaven  to  witness  the  sincerity  of  his  professions. 
The  distrust  with  which  his  adversaries  regarded  him  was  not 
to  be  removed  by  oaths  or  treaties.  They  were  convinced 
that  they  could  be  safe  only  when  he  was  utterly  helpless. 
Their  demand,  therefore,  was,  that  he  should  surrender,  not 
only  those  prerogatives  which  he  had  usurped  in  violation  of 
ancient  laws  and  of  his  own  recent  promises,  but  also  other 
prerogatives  which  the  English  kings  had  always  possessed, 
and  continue  to  possess  at  the  present  day.  'No  minister 
must  be  appointed,  no  peer  created,  without  the  consent  of 
the  Houses.  Above  all,  the  sovereign  must  resign  that  su- 
preme military  authority  which,  from  time  beyond  all  mem- 
ory, had  appertained  to  the  regal  office. 

That  Charles  would  comply  with  such  demands  while  he 
had  any  means  of  resistance  was  not  to  be  expected.  Yet  it 
will  be  difficult  to  show  that  the  Houses  could  safely  have 
exacted  less.  They  were  truly  in  a  most  embarrassing  posi- 
tion. The  great  majority  of  the  nation  was  firmly  attached 
to  hereditary  monarchy.  Those  who  held  republican  opin- 
ions were  as  yet  few,  and  did  not  venture  to  speak  out.  It 
was,  therefore,  impossible  to  abolish  kingly  government.  Yet 
it  was  plain  that  no  confidence  could  be  placed  in  the  King. 
It  would  have  been  absurd  in  those  who  knew,  by  recent 
proof,  that  he  was  bent  on  destroying  them,  to  content  them- 
selves with  presenting  to  him  another  Petition  of  Bight,  and 
receiving  from  him  fresh  promises  similar  to  those  which  he 
had  repeatedly  made  and  broken.  Nothing  but  the  want  of 
an  army  had  prevented  him  from  entirely  subverting  the  old 


CH.  I.  BEFOEE  THE  RESTORATION.  Ill 

constitution  of  the  realm.  It  was  now  necessary  to  levy  a 
great  regular  army  for  the  conquest  of  Ireland ;  and  it  would 
therefore  have  been  mere  insanity  to  leave  him  in  possession 
of  that  plenitude  of  military  authority  which  his  ancestors 
had  enjoyed. 

When  a  country  is  in  the  situation  in  which  England  then 
was,  when  the  kingly  office  is  regarded  with  love  and  vener- 
ation, but  the  person  who  fills  that  office  is  hated  and  dis- 
trusted, it  should  seem  that  the  course  which  ought  to  be 
taken  is  obvious.  The  dignity  of  the  office  should  be  pre- 
served :  the  person  should  be  discarded.  Thus  our  ancestors 
acted  in  1399  and  in  1689.  Had  there  been,  in  1642,  any 
man  occupying  a  position  similar  to  that  which  Henry  of 
Lancaster  occupied  at  the  time  of  the  deposition  of  Richard 
the  Second,  and  which  William  of  Orange  occupied  at  the 
time  of  the  deposition  of  James  the  Second,  it  is  probable 
that  the  Houses  would  have  changed  the  dynasty,  and  would 
have  made  no  formal  change  in  the  constitution.  The  new 
King,  called  to  the  throne  by  their  choice,  and  dependent  on 
their  support,  would  have  been  under  the  necessity  of  gov- 
erning in  conformity  with  their  wishes  and  opinions.  But 
there  was  no  prince  of  the  blood  royal  in  the  parliamentary 
party ;  and,  though  that  party  contained  many  men  of  high 
rank  and  many  men  of  eminent  ability,  there  was  none  who 
towered  so  conspicuously  above  the  rest  that  he  could  be 
proposed  as  a  candidate  for  the  crown.  As  there  was  to  be 
a  king,  and  as  no  new  king  could  be  found,  it  was  necessary 
to  leave  the  regal  title  to  Charles.  Only  one  course,  there- 
fore, was  left ;  and  that  was  to  disjoin  the  regal  title  from  the 
regal  prerogatives. 

The  change  which  the  Houses  proposed  to  make  in  our 
institutions,  though  it  seems  exorbitant,  when  distinctly  set 
forth  and  digested  into  articles  of  capitulation,  really  amounts 
to  little  more  than  the  change  which,  in  the  next  generation, 
was  effected  by  the  Revolution.  It  is  true  that,  at  the  Rev- 
olution, the  sovereign  was  not  deprived  by  law  of  the  power 
of  naming  his  ministers :  but  it  is  equally  true  that,  since 
the  Revolution,  no  minister  has  been  able  to  retain  office  six 


112  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

months  in  opposition  to  the  sense  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
It  is  true  that  the  sovereign  still  possesses  the  power  of  cre- 
ating peers,  and  the  more  important  power  of  the  sword  :  but 
it  is  equally  true  that  in  the  exercise  of  these  powers  the  sov- 
ereign has,  ever  since  the  Revolution,  been  guided  by  advisers 
who  possess  the  confidence  of  the  representatives  of  the  na- 
tion. In  fact,  the  leaders  of  the  Roundhead  party  in  1642, 
and  the  statesmen  who,  about  half  a  century  later,  effected 
the  Revolution,  had  exactly  the  same  object  in  view.  That 
object  was  to  terminate  the  contest  between  the  Crown  and 
the  Parliament,  by  giving  to  the  Parliament  a  supreme  con- 
trol over  the  executive  administration.  The  statesmen  of 
the  Revolution  effected  this  indirectly  by  changing  the  dy- 
nasty. The  Roundheads  of  1642,  being  unable  to  change 
the  dynasty,  were  compelled  to  take  a  direct  course  toward 
their  end. 

We  cannot,  however,  wonder  that  the  demands  of  the  oppo- 
sition, importing  as  they  did  a  complete  and  formal  transfer 
to  the  Parliament  of  powers  which  had  always  belonged  to 
the  crown,  should  have  shocked  that  great  party  of  which 
the  characteristics  are  respect  for  constituted  authority  and 
dread  of  violent  innovation.  That  party  had  recently  been 
in  hopes  of  obtaining  by  peaceable  means  the  ascendency 
in  the  House  of  Commons;  but  every  such  hope  had  been 
blighted.  The  duplicity  of  Charles  had  made  his  old  ene- 
mies irreconcilable,  had  driven  back  into  the  ranks  of  the 
disaffected  a  crowd  of  moderate  men  who  were  in  the  very 
act  of  coming  over  to  his  side,  and  had  so  cruelly  mortified 
his  best  friends  that  they  had  for  a  time  stood  aloof  in  silent 
shame  and  resentment.  Now,  however,  the  constitutional 
Royalists  were  forced  to  make  their  choice  between  two  dan- 
gers ;  and  they  thought  it  their  duty  rather  to  rally  round  a 
prince  whose  past  conduct  they  condemned,  and  whose  word 
inspired  them  with  little  confidence,  than  to  suffer  the  regal 
office  to  be  degraded,  and  the  polity  of  the  realm  to  be  en- 
tirely remodelled.  With  such  feelings,  many  men  whose 
virtues  and  abilities  would  have  done  honor  to  any  cause 
ranged  themselves  on  the  side  of  the  King. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  113 

In  August,  1642,  the  sword  was  at  length  drawn ;  and  soon, 

in  almost  every  shire  of  the  kingdom,  two  hostile  factions 

appeared  in    arms  against  each,   other.     It  is  not 

Commence-  •,  •   -,         f      •> 

mentofthe      easy  to  say  which  of  the  contending  parties  was 

civil  war  " 

at  first  the  more  formidable.  The  Houses  com- 
manded London  and  the  counties  round  London,  the  fleet, 
the  navigation  of  the  Thames,  and  most  of  the  large  towns 
and  seaports.  They  had  at  their  disposal  almost  all  the  mili- 
tary stores  of  the  kingdom,  and  were  able  to  raise  duties,  both 
on  goods  imported  from  foreign  countries,  and  on  some  im- 
portant products  of  domestic  industry.  The  King  was  ill 
provided  with  artillery  and  ammunition.  The  taxes  which 
he  laid  on  the  rural  districts  occupied  by  his  troops  produced, 
it  is  probable,  a  sum  far  less  than  that  which  the  Parliament 
drew  from  the  city  of  London  alone.  He  relied,  indeed,  chief- 
ly, for  pecuniary  aid,  on  the  munificence  of  his  opulent  ad- 
herents. Many  of  these  mortgaged  their  land,  pawned  their 
jewels,  and  broke  up  their  silver  chargers  and  christening- 
bowls,  in  order  to  assist  him.  But  experience  has  fully 
proved  that  the  voluntary  liberality  of  individuals,  even  in 
times  of  the  greatest  excitement,  is  a  poor  financial  resource 
when  compared  with  severe  and  methodical  taxation,  which 
presses  on  the  willing  and  unwilling  alike. 

Charles,  however,  had  one  advantage,  which,  if  he  had  used 
it  well,  would  have  more  than  compensated  for  the  want  of 
stores  and  money,  and  which,  notwithstanding  his  misman- 
agement, gave  him,  during  some  months,  a  superiority  in  the 
war.  His  troops  at  first  fought  much  better  than  those  of 
the  Parliament.  Both  armies,  it  is  true,  were  almost  entirely 
composed  of  men  who  had  never  seen  a  field  of  battle.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  difference  was  great.  The  parliamentary  ranks 
were  filled  with  hirelings  whom  want  and  idleness  had  in- 
duced to  enlist.  Hampden's  regiment  was  regarded  as  one 
of  the  best ;  and  even  Hampden's  regiment  was  described  by 
Cromwell  as  a  mere  rabble  of  tapsters  and  serving -men  out 
of  place.  The  royal  army,  on  the  other  hand,  consisted  in 
great  part  of  gentlemen,  high-spirited,  ardent,  accustomed  to 
consider  dishonor  as  more  terrible  than  death,  accustomed  to 

I.— 8 


114  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

fencing,  to  the  use  of  fire-arms,  to  bold  riding,  and  to  manly 
and  perilous  sport,  which  has  been  well  called  the  image  of 
war.  Such  gentlemen,  mounted  on  their  favorite  horses,  and 
commanding  little  bands,  composed  of  their  younger  brothers, 
grooms,  game-keepers,  and  huntsmen,  were,  from  the  very  first 
day  on  which  they  took  the  field,  qualified  to  play  their  part 
with  credit  in  a  skirmish.  The  steadiness,  the  prompt  obedi- 
ence, the  mechanical  precision  of  movement,  which  are  char- 
acteristic of  the  regular  soldier,  these  gallant  volunteers  never 
attained.  But  they  were  at  first  opposed  to  enemies  as  un- 
disciplined as  themselves,  and  far  less  active,  athletic,  and 
daring.  For  a  time,  therefore,  the  Cavaliers  were  successful 
in  almost  every  encounter. 

The  Houses  had  also  been  unfortunate  in  the  choice  of  a 
general.  The  rank  and  wealth  of  the  Earl  of  Essex  made 
him  one  of  the  most  important  members  of  the  parliamenta- 
ry party.  He  had  borne  arms  on  the  Continent  with  credit, 
and,  when  the  war  began,  had  as  high  a  military  reputation 
as  any  man  in  the  country.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  he 
was  unfit  for  the  post  of  commander-in-chief.  He  had  little 
energy  and  no  originality.  The  methodical  tactics  which  he 
had  learned  in  the  war  of  the  Palatinate  did  not  save  him 
from  the  disgrace  of  being  surprised  and  baffled  by  such  a 
captain  as  Rupert,  who  could  claiiA  no  higher  fame  than  that 
of  an  enterprising  partisan. 

Nor  were  the  officers  who  held  the  chief  commissions  under 
Essex  qualified  to  supply  what  was  wanting  in  him.  For  this, 
indeed,  the  Houses  are  scarcely  to  be  blamed.  In  a  country 
which  had  not,  within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  person  living, 
made  war  on  a  great  scale  by  land,  generals  of  tried  skill  and 
valor  were  not  to  be  found.  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  trust  untried  men ;  and  the  preference 
was  naturally  given  to  men  distinguished  either  by  their  sta- 
tion or  by  the  abilities  which  they  had  displayed  in  Parlia- 
ment. In  scarcely  a  single  instance,  however,  was  the  selec- 
tion fortunate.  Neither  the  grandees  nor  the  orators  proved 
good  soldiers.  The  Earl  of  Stamford,  one  of  the  greatest 
nobles  of  England,  was  routed  by  the  Royalists  at  Stratton. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  115 

Kathaniel  Flennes,  inferior  to  none  of  his  contemporaries  in 
talents  for  civil  business,  disgraced  himself  by  the  pusillani- 
mous surrender  of  Bristol.  Indeed,  of  all  the  statesmen  who 
at  this  juncture  accepted  high  military  commands,  Harnpden 
alone  appears  to  have  carried  into  the  camp  the  capacity  and 
strength  of  mind  which  had  made  him  eminent  in  politics. 

When  the  war  had  lasted  a  year,  the  advantage  was  decid- 
edly with  the  Royalists.  They  were  victorious,  both  in  the 
successes  of  western  and  in  the  northern  counties.  They  had 
the  Royalists.  wreste(J  Bristol,  the  second  city  in  the  kingdom, 
from  the  Parliament.  They  had  won  several  battles,  and  had 
not  sustained  a  single  serious  or  ignominious  defeat.  Among 
the  Roundheads  adversity  had  begun  to  produce  dissension 
and  discontent.  The  Parliament  was  kept  in  alarm,  some- 
times by  plots,  and  sometimes  by  riots.  It  was  thought  nec- 
essary to  fortify  London  against  the  royal  army,  and  to  hang 
some  disaffected  citizens  at  their  own  doors.  Several  of  the 
most  distinguished  peers  who  had  hitherto  remained  at  "West- 
minster fled  to  the  court  at  Oxford ;  nor  can  it  be  doubted 
that,  if  the  operations  of  the  Cavaliers  had  at  this  season  been 
directed  by  a  sagacious  and  powerful  mind,  Charles  would 
soon  have  marched  in  triumph  to  Whitehall. 

But  the  King  suffered  the  auspicious  moment  to  pass  away ; 
and  it  never  returned.  In  August,  1643,  he  sat  down  before 
the  city  of  Gloucester.  That  city  was  defended  by  the  inhab- 
itants and  by  the  garrison,  with  a  determination  such  as  had 
not,  since  the  commencement  of  the  war,  been  shown  by  the 
adherents  of  the  Parliament.  The  emulation  of  London  was 
excited.  The  trainbands  of  the  City  volunteered  to  march 
wherever  their  services  might  be  required.  A  great  force  was 
speedily  collected,  and  began  to  move  westward.  The  siege 
of  Gloucester  was  raised;  the  Royalists  in  every  part  of  the 
kingdom  were  disheartened ;  the  spirit  of  the  parliamentary 
party  revived ;  and  the  apostate  lords,  who  had  lately  fled 
from  Westminster  to  Oxford,  hastened  back  from  Oxford  to 
Westminster. 

And  now  a  new  and  alarming  class  of  symptoms  began  to 
appear  in  the  distempered  body -politic.  There  had  been, 


116  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

from  the  first,  in  the  parliamentary  party,  some  men  whose 
Rise  of  the  in-  minds  were  set  on  objects  from  which  the  major- 
dependents,  fty  of  t]iaj.  party  would  have  shrunk  with  horror. 
These  men  were,  in  religion,  Independents.  They  conceived 
that  every  Christian  congregation  had,  under  Christ,  supreme 
jurisdiction  in  things  spiritual ;  that  appeals  to  provincial  and 
national  synods  were  scarcely  less  unscriptural  than  appeals 
to  the  Court  of  Arches  or  to  the  Vatican ;  and  that  Popery, 
Prelacy,  and  Presbyterianism  were  merely  three  forms  of  one 
great  apostasy.  In  politics  the  Independents  were,  to  use  the 
phrase  of  their  time,  root-and-branch  men,  or,  to  use  the  kin- 
dred phrase  of  our  own  time,  radicals.  Not  content  with  lim- 
iting the  power  of  the  monarch,  they  were  desirous  to  erect  a 
commonwealth  on  the  ruins  of  the  old  English  polity.  At 
first  they  had  been  inconsiderable,  both  in  numbers  and  in 
weight ;  but  before  the  war  had  lasted  two  years  they  became, 
not  indeed  the  largest,  but  the  most  powerful  faction  in  the 
country.  Some  of  the  old  parliamentary  leaders  had  been  re- 
moved by  death ;  and  others  had  forfeited  the  public  confi- 
dence. Pym  had  been  borne,  with  princely  honors,  to  a  grave 
among  the  Plantagenets.  Hampden  had  fallen,  as  became 
him,  while  vainly  endeavoring,  by  his  heroic  example,  to  in- 
spire his  followers  with  courage  to  face  the  fiery  cavalry  of 
Rupert.  Bedford  had  been  untrue  to  the  cause.  Northum- 
berland was  known  to  be  lukewarm.  Essex  and  his  lieu- 
tenants had  shown  little  vigor  and  ability  in  the  conduct  of 
military  operations.  At  such  a  conjuncture  it  was  that  the 
Independent  party,  ardent,  resolute,  and  uncompromising,  be- 
gan to  raise  its  head,  both  in  the  camp  and  in  the  House  of 
Commons. 

The  soul  of  that  party  was  Oliver  Cromwell.  Bred  to 
peaceful  occupations,  he  had,  at  more  than  forty  years  of  age, 
oiiver  crom-  accepted  a  commission  in  the  parliamentary  army. 
No  sooner  had  he  become  a  soldier  than  he  dis- 
cerned, with  the  keen  glance  of  genius,  what  Essex  and  men 
like  Essex,  with  all  their  experience,  were  unable  to  perceive. 
He  saw  precisely  where  the  strength  of  the  Royalists  lay,  and 
by  what  means  alone  that  strength  could  be  overpowered. 


CH.  I  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  117 

He  saw  that  it  was  necessary  to  reconstruct  the  army  of  the 
Parliament.  He  saw  also  that  there  were  abundant  and  ex- 
cellent materials  for  the  purpose,  materials  less  showy,  indeed, 
but  more  solid,  than  those  of  which  the  gallant  squadrons  of 
the  King  were  composed.  It  was  necessary  to  look  for  re- 
cruits who  were  not  mere  mercenaries,  for  recruits  of  decent 
station  and  grave  character,  fearing  God  and  zealous  for  pub- 
lic liberty.  With  such  men  he  filled  his  own  regiment,  and, 
while  he  subjected  them  to  a  discipline  more  rigid  than  had 
ever  before  been  known  in  England,  he  administered  to  their 
intellectual  and  moral  nature  stimulants  of  fearful  potency. 

The  events  of  the  year  1644  fully  proved  the  superiority 
of  his  abilities.  In  the  south,  where  Essex  held  the  com- 
mand, the  parliamentary  forces  underwent  a  succession  of 
shameful  disasters ;  but  in  the  north  the  victory  of  Marston 
Moor  fully  compensated  for  all  that  had  been  lost  elsewhere. 
That  victory  was  not  a  more  serious  blow  to  the  Royalists 
than  to  the  party  which  had  hitherto  been  dominant  at  West- 
minster ;  for  it  was  notorious  that  the  day.  disgracefully  lost 
by  the  Presbyterians,  had  been  retrieved  by  the  energy  of 
Cromwell,  and  by  the  steady  valor  of  the  warriors  whom  he 
had  trained. 

These  events  produced  the  Self-denying  Ordinance  and  the 
new  model  of  the  army.  Under  decorous  pretexts,  and  with 
seif-denying  every  mark  of  respect,  Essex  and  most  of  those 
ordinance.  Wj10  na(j  jie|^  j^g^  pOSts  under  him  were  removed ; 

and  the  conduct  of  the  war  "was  intrusted  to  very  different 
hands.  Fairfax,  a  brave  soldier,  but  of  mean  understanding 
and  irresolute  temper,  was  the  nominal  Lord  General  of  the 
forces ;  but  Cromwell  was  their  real  head. 

Cromwell  made  haste  to  organize  the  whole  army  on  the 
same  principles  on  which  he  had  organized  his  own  regiment. 
As  soon  as  this  process  was  complete,  the  event  of  the  war 
was  decided.  The  Cavaliers  had  now  to  encounter  natural 
courage  equal  to  their  own,  enthusiasm  stronger  than  their 
own,  and  discipline  such  as  was  utterly  wanting  to  them.  It 
soon  became  a  proverb  that  the  soldiers  of  Fairfax  and  Crom- 
well were  men  of  a  different  breed  from  the  soldiers  of  Essex. 


118  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

At  Naseby  took  place  the  first  great  encounter  between  the 
victory  of  the  Royalists  and  the  remodelled  army  of  the  Houses, 
parliament,  ij^g  victory  of  the  Roundheads  was  complete  and 
decisive.  It  was  followed  by  other  triumphs  in  rapid  suc- 
cession. In  a  few  months  the  authority  of  the  Parliament 
was  fully  established  over  the  whole  kingdom.  Charles  fled 
to  the  Scots,  and  was  by  them,  in  a  manner  which  did  not 
much  exalt  their  national  character,  delivered  up  to  his  Eng- 
lish subjects. 

"While  the  event  of  the  war  was  still  doubtful,  the  Houses 
had  put  the  Primate  to  death,  had  interdicted,  within  the 
sphere  of  their  authority,  the  use  of  the  Liturgy,  and  had 
required  all  men  to  subscribe  that  renowned  instrument 
known  by  the  name  of  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant. 
Covenanting  work,  as  it  was  called,  went  on  fast.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  affixed  their  names  to  the  rolls,  and,  with 
hands  lifted  up  toward  heaven,  swore  to  endeavor,  without 
respect  of  persons,  the  extirpation  of  Popery  and  Prelacy, 
heresy  and  schism,  and  to  bring  to  public  trial  and  condign 
punishment  all  who  should  hinder  the  reformation  of  relig- 
ion. When  the  struggle  was  over,  the  work  of  innovation 
and  revenge  was  pushed  on  with  increased  ardor.  The  eccle- 
siastical polity  of  the  kingdom  was  remodelled.  Most  of  the 
old  clergy  were  ejected  from  their  benefices.  Fines,  often  of 
ruinous  amount,  were  laid  on  the  Royalists,  already  impov- 
erished by  large  aids  furnished  to  the  King.  Many  estates 
were  confiscated.  Many  proscribed  Cavaliers  found  it  expe- 
dient to  purchase,  at  an  enormous  cost,  the  protection  of  emi- 
nent members  of  the  victorious  party.  Large  domains,  be- 
longing to  the  crown,  to  the  bishops,  and  to  the  chapters,  were 
seized,  and  either  granted  away  or  put  up  to  auction.  In  con- 
sequence of  these  spoliations,  a  great  part  of  the  soil  of  Eng- 
land was  at  once  offered  for  sale.  As  money  was  scarce,  as 
the  market  was  glutted,  as  the  title  was  insecure,  and  as  the 
awe  inspired  by  powerful  bidders  prevented  free  competition, 
the  prices  were  often  merely  nominal.  Thus  many  old  and 
honorable  families  disappeared  and  were  heard  of  no  more ; 
and  many  new  men  rose  rapidly  to  affluence. 


CH.I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  119 

But,  while  the  Houses  were  employing  their  authority  thus, 
it  suddenly  passed  out  of  their  hands.  It  had  been  obtained  by 
calling  into  existence  a  power  which  could  not  be  controlled. 
In  the  summer  of  1647,  about  twelve  months  after  the  last 
fortress  of  the  Cavaliers  had  submitted  to  the  Parliament,  the 
Parliament  was  compelled  to  submit  to  its  own  soldiers. 

Thirteen  years  followed,  during  which  England  was,  under 
various  names  and  forms,  really  governed  by  the 

Domination  .     -  ,  . 

and  character    sword.     JNever  before  that  time,  or  since  that  time, 

of  the  army.  .     .  .  . 

was  the  civil  power  in  our  country  subjected  to 
military  dictation. 

The  army  which  now  became  supreme  in  the  state  was  an 
army  very  different  from  any  that  has  since  been  seen  among 
us.  At  present  the  pay  of  the  common  soldier  is  not  such 
as  can  seduce  any  but  the  humblest  class  of  English  laborers 
from  their  calling.  A  barrier  almost  impassable  separates  him 
from  the  commissioned  officer.  The  great  majority  of  those 
who  rise  high  in  the  service  rise  by  purchase.  So  numerous 
and  extensive  are  the  remote  dependencies  of  England,  that 
every  man  who  enlists  in  the  line  must  expect  to  pass  many 
years  in  exile,  and  some  years  in  climates  unfavorable  to  the 
health  and  vigor  of  the  European  race.  The  army  of  the 
Long  Parliament  was  raised  for  home  service.  The  pay  of 
the  private  soldier  was  much  above  the  wages  earned  by  the 
great  body  of  the  people ;  and,  if  he  distinguished  himself  by 
intelligence  and  courage,  he  might  hope  to  attain  high  com- 
mands. The  ranks  were  accordingly  composed  of  persons 
superior  in  station  and  education  to  the  multitude.  These 
persons,  sober,  moral,  diligent,  and  accustomed  to  reflect,  had 
been  induced  to  take  up  arms,  not  by  the  pressure  of  want, 
not  by  the  love  of  novelty  and  license,  not  by  the  arts  of  re- 
cruiting officers,  but  by  religions  and  political  zeal,  mingled 
with  the  desire  of  distinction  and  promotion.  The  boast  of 
the  soldiers,  as  we  find  it  recorded  in  their  solemn  resolutions, 
was  that  they  had  .not  been  forced  into  the  service,  nor  had 
enlisted  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  lucre,  that  they  were  no  jani- 
zaries, but  freeborn  Englishmen,  who  had,  of  their  own  ac- 
cord, put  their  lives  in  jeopardy  for  the  liberties  and  religion 


120  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

of  England,  and  whose  right  and  duty  it  was  to  watch  over 
the  welfare  of  the  nation  which  they  had  saved. 

A  force  thus  composed  might,  without  injury  to  its  effi- 
ciency, be  indulged  in  some  liberties  which,  if  allowed  to  any 
other  troops,  would  have  proved  subversive  of  all  discipline. 
In  general,  soldiers  who  should  form  themselves  into  political 
clubs,  elect  delegates,  and  pass  resolutions  on  high  questions 
of  state,  would  soon  break  loose  from  all  control,  would  cease 
to  form  an  army,  and  would  become  the  worst  and  most  dan- 
gerous of  mobs.  Nor  would  it  be  safe,  in  our  time,  to  tolerate 
in  any  regiment  religious  meetings,  at  which  a  corporal  versed 
in  Scripture  should  lead  the  devotions  of  his  less  gifted  col- 
onel, and  admonish  a  backsliding  major.  But  such  was  the 
intelligence,  the  gravity,  and  the  self-command  of  the  war- 
riors whom  Cromwell  had  trained,  that  in  their  camp  a  po- 
litical organization  and  a  religions  organization  could  exist 
without  destroying  military  organization.  The  same  men, 
who,  off  duty,  were  noted  as  demagogues  and  field-preachers, 
were  distinguished  by  steadiness,  by  the  spirit  of  order,  and  by 
prompt  obedience  on  watch,  on  drill,  and  on  the  field  of  battle. 

In  war  this  strange  force  was  irresistible.  The  stubborn 
courage  characteristic  of  the  English  people  was,  by  the  sys- 
tem of  Cromwell,  at  once  regulated  and  stimulated.  Other 
leaders  have  maintained  order  as  strict.  Other  leaders  have 
inspired  their  followers  with  zeal  as  ardent.  But  in  his  camp 
alone  the  most  rigid  discipline  was  found  in  company  with 
the  fiercest  enthusiasm.  His  troops  moved  to  victory  with 
the  precision  of  machines,  while  burning  with  the  wildest  fa- 
naticism of  Crusaders.  From  the  time  when  the  army  was 
remodelled  to  the  time  when  it  was  disbanded,  it  never  found, 
either  in  the  British  islands  or  on  the  Continent,  an  enemy 
who  could  stand  its  onset.  In  England,  Scotland,  Ireland, 
Flanders,  the  Puritan  warriors,  often  surrounded  by  difficul- 
ties, sometimes  contending  against  threefold  odds,  not  only 
never  failed  to  conquer,  but  never  failed  to  destroy  and  break 
in  pieces  whatever  force  was  opposed  to  them.  They  at 
length  came  to  regard  the  day  of  battle  as  a  day  of  certain 
triumph,  and  marched  against  the  most  renowned  battalions 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  121 

of  Europe  with  disdainful  confidence.  Turenne  was  startled 
by  the  shout  of  stern  exultation  with  which  his  English  allies 
advanced  to  the  combat,  and  expressed  the  delight  of  a  true 
soldier  when  he  learned  that  it  was  ever  the  fashion  of  Crom- 
well's pikemen  to  rejoice  greatly  when  they  beheld  the  ene- 
my ;  and  the  banished  Cavaliers  felt  an  emotion  of  national 
pride  when  they  saw  a  brigade  of  their  countrymen,  outnum- 
bered by  foes  and  abandoned  by  friends,  drive  before  it  in 
headlong  rout  the  finest  infantry  of  Spain,  and  force  a  pas- 
sage into  a  counterscarp  which  had  just  been  pronounced  im- 
pregnable by  the  ablest  of  the  marshals  of  France. 

But  that  which  chiefly  distinguished  the  army  of  Cromwell 
from  other  armies  was  the  austere  morality  and  the  fear  of 
God  which  pervaded  all  ranks.  It  is  acknowledged  by  the 
most  zealous  Royalists  that,  in  that  singular  camp,  no  oath 
was  heard,  no  drunkenness  or  gambling  was  seen,  and  that, 
during  the  long  dominion  of  the  soldiery,  the  property  of  the 
peaceable  citizen  and  the  honor  of  woman  were  held  sacred. 
If  outrages  were  committed,  they  were  outrages  of  a  very 
different  kind  from  those  of  which  a  victorious  army  is  gen- 
erally guilty.  No  servanfr.girl  complained  of  the  rough  gal- 
lantry of  the  redcoats.  Not  an  ounce  of  plate  was  taken 
from  the  shops  of  the  goldsmiths.  But  a  Pelagian  sermon, 
or  a  window  on  which  the  Virgin  and  Child  were  painted, 
produced  in  the  Puritan  ranks  an  excitement  which  it  re- 
quired the  utmost  exertions  of  the  officers  to  quell.  One  of 
Cromwell's  chief  difficulties  was  to  restrain  his  musketeers 
and  dragoons  from  invading  by  main  force  the  pulpits  of 
ministers  whose  discourses,  to  use  the  language  of  that  time, 
were  not  savory ;  and  too  many  of  our  cathedrals  still  bear 
the  marks  of  the  hatred  with  wrhich  those  stern  spirits  re- 
garded every  vestige  of  Popery. 

To  keep  down  the  English  people  was  no  light  task  even 
for  that  army.  No  sooner  was  the  first  pressure  of  milita- 
Risings against  rJ  tyranny  felt,  than  the  nation,  unbroken  to  such 
government  servitude,  began  to  struggle  fiercely.  Insurrections 
suppressed.  broke  out  even  in  those  counties  which,  during  the 
recent  war,  had  been  the  most  submissive  to  the  Parliament. 


122  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Indeed,  the  Parliament  itself  abhorred  its  old  defenders  more 
than  its  old  enemies,  and  was  desirous  to  come  to  terms  of 
accommodation  with  Charles  at  the  expense  of  the  troops. 
In  Scotland,  at  the  same  time,  a  coalition  was  formed  between 
the  Royalists  and  a  large  body  of  Presbyterians  who  regard- 
ed the  doctrines  of  the  Independents  with  detestation.  At 
length  the  storm  burst.  There  were  risings  in  Norfolk,  Suf- 
folk, Essex,  Kent,  Wales.  The  fleet  in  the  Thames  suddenly 
hoisted  the  royal  colors,  stood  out  to  sea,  and  menaced  the 
southern  coast.  A  great  Scottish  force  crossed  the  frontier 
and  advanced  into  Lancashire.  It  might  well  be  suspected 
that  these  movements  were  contemplated  with  secret  compla- 
cency by  a  majority  both  of  the  Lords  and  of  the  Commons. 

But  the  yoke  of  the  army  was  not  to  be  so  shaken  off. 
While  Fairfax  suppressed  the  risings  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  capital,  Oliver  routed  the  Welsh  insurgents,  and,  leaving 
their  castles  in  ruins,  marched  against  the  Scots.  His  troops 
were  few,  when  compared  with  the  invaders ;  but  he  was  lit- 
tle in  the  habit  of  counting  his  enemies.  The  Scottish  army 
was  utterly  destroyed.  A  change  in  the  Scottish  government 
followed.  An  administration,  hostile  to  the  King,  was  form- 
ed at  Edinburgh ;  and  Cromwell,  more  than  ever  the  darling 
of  his  soldiers,  returned  in  triumph  to  London. 

And  now  a  design,  to  which,  at  the  commencement  of  the 

civil  war,  no  man  would  have  dared  to  allude,  and  which  was 

not  less  inconsistent  with  the  Solemn  League  and 

Proceedings 

against  the  Covenant  than  with  the  old  law  of  England,  began 
to  take  a  distinct  form.  The  austere  warriors  who 
ruled  the  nation  had,  during  some  months,  meditated  a  fearful 
vengeance  on  the  captive  King.  "V\yien  and  how  the  scheme 
originated :  whether  it  spread  from  the  general  to  the  ranks, 
or  from  the  ranks  to  the  general ;  whether  it  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  policy  using  fanaticism  as  a  tool,  or  to  fanaticism  bearing 
down  policy  with  headlong  impulse,  are  questions  which,  even 
at  this  day,  cannot  be  answered  with  perfect  confidence.  It 
seems,  however,  on  the  whole,  probable  that  he  who  seemed 
to  lead  was  really  forced  to  follow,  and  that,  on  this  occasion, 
as  on  another  great  occasion  a  few  years  later,  he  sacrificed 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  123 

his  own  judgment  and  his  own  inclinations  to  the  wishes  of 
the  army.  For  the  power  which  he  had  called  into  existence 
was  a  power  which  even  lie  could  not  always  control ;  and, 
that  he  might  ordinarily  command,  it  was  necessary  that  he 
should  sometimes  obey.  He  publicly  protested  that  he  was 
no  mover  in  the  matter,  that  the  first  steps  had  been  taken 
without  his  privity,  that  he  could  not  advise  the  Parliament 
to  strike  the  blow,  but  that  he  submitted  his  own  feelings  to 
the  force  of  circumstances  which  seemed  to  him  to  indicate 
the  purposes  of  Providence.  It  has  been  the  fashion  to  con- 
sider these  professions  as  instances  of  the  hypocrisy  which 
is  vulgarly  imputed  to  him.  But  even  those  who  pronounce 
him  a  hypocrite  will  scarcely  venture  to  call  him  a  fool.  They 
are,  therefore,  bound  to  show  that  he  had  some  purpose  to 
serve  by  secretly  stimulating  the  army  to  take  that  course 
which  he  did  not  venture  openly  to  recommend.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  suppose  that  he,  who  was  never  by  his  respecta- 
ble enemies  represented  as  wantonly  cruel  or  implacably  vin- 
dictive, would  have  taken  the  most  important  step  of  his  life 
under  the  influence  of  mere  malevolence.  He  was  far  too 
wise  a  man  not  to  know,  when  he  consented  to  shed  that  au- 
gust blood,  that  he  was  doing  a  deed  which  was  inexpiable, 
and  which  would  move  the  grief  and  horror,  not  only  of  the 
Royalists,  but  of  nine-tenths  of  those  who  had  stood  by  the 
Parliament.  Whatever  visions  may  have  deluded  others,  he 
was  assuredly  dreaming  neither  of  a  republic  on  the  antique 
pattern,  nor  of  the  millennial  reign  of  the  saints.  If  he  al- 
ready aspired  to  be  himself  the  founder  of  a  new  dynasty,  it 
was  plain  that  Charles  the  First  was  a  less  formidable  com- 
petitor than  Charles  the  Second  would  be.  At  the  moment 
of  the  death  of  Charles  the  First,  the  loyalty  of  every  Cava- 
lier would  be  transferred,  unimpaired,  to  Charles  the  Second. 
Charles  the  First  was  a  captive:  Charles  the  Second  would 
be  at  liberty.  Charles  the  First  was  an  object  of  suspicion 
and  dislike  to  a  large  proportion  of  those  who  yet  shuddered 
at  the  thought  of  slaying  him :  Charles  the  Second  would 
excite  all  the  interest  which  belongs  to  distressed  youth  and 
innocence.  It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  considerations  so 


124  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

obvious  and  so  important  escaped  the  most  profound  politi- 
cian of  that  age.  The  truth  is  that  Cromwell  had,  at  one  time, 
meant  to  mediate  between  the  throne  and  the  Parliament, 
and  to  reorganize  the  distracted  state  by  the  power  of  the 
sword,  under  the  sanction  of  the  royal  name.  In  this  design 
he  persisted  till  he  was  compelled  to  abandon  it  by  the  refrac- 
tory temper  of  the  soldiers,  and  by  the  incurable  duplicity  of 
the  King.  A  party  in  the  camp  began  to  clamor  for  the  head 
of  the  traitor,  who  was  for  treating  with  Agag.  Conspiracies 
were  formed.  Threats  of  impeachment  were  loudly  uttered. 
A  mutiny  broke  out,  which  all  the  vigor  and  resolution  of 
Oliver  could  hardly  quell.  And  though,  by  a  judicious  mixt- 
ure of  severity  and  kindness,  he  succeeded  in  restoring  order, 
he  saw  that  it  would  be'  in  the  highest  degree  difficult  and 
perilous  to  contend  against  the  rage  of  warriors,  who  regarded 
the  fallen  tyrant  as  their  foe,  and  as  the  foe  of  their  God. 
At  the  same  time  it  became  more  evident  than  ever  that  the 
King  could  not  be  trusted.  The  vices  of  Charles  had  grown 
upon  him.  They  were,  indeed,  vices  which  difficulties  and 
perplexities  generally  bring  out  in  the  strongest  light.  Cun- 
ning is  the  natural  defence  of  the  weak.  A  prince,  therefore, 
who  is  habitually  a  deceiver  when  at  the  height  of  power,  is 
not  likely  to  learn  frankness  in  the  midst  of  embarrassments 
and  distresses.  Charles  was  not  only  a  most  unscrupulous, 
but  a  most  unlucky  dissembler.  There  never  was  a  politician 
to  whom  so  many  frauds  and  falsehoods  were  brought  home 
by  undeniable  evidence.  He  publicly  recognized  the  Houses 
at  Westminster  as  a  legal  Parliament,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
made  a  private  minute  in  council  declaring  the  recognition 
null.  He  publicly  disclaimed  all  thought  of  calling  in  for- 
eign aid  against  his  people:  he  privately  solicited  aid  from 
France,  from  Denmark,  and  from  Lorraine.  He  publicly  de- 
nied that  he  employed  Papists :  at  the  same  time  he  private- 
ly sent  to  his  generals  directions  to  employ  every  Papist  that 
would  serve.  He  publicly  took  the  sacrament  at  Oxford,  as 
a  pledge  that  he  never  would  even  connive  at  Popery:  he 
privately  assured  his  wife  that  he  intended  to  tolerate  Popery 
in  England;  and  he  authorized  Lord  Glamorgan  to  promise 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  125 

that  Popery  should  be  established  in  Ireland.  Then  he  at- 
tempted to  clear  himself  at  his  agent's  expense.  Glamorgan 
received,  in  the  royal  handwriting,  reprimands  intended  to 
be  read  by  others,  and  eulogies  which  were  to  be  seen  only 
by  himself.  To  such  an  extent,  indeed,  had  insincerity  now 
tainted  the  King's  whole  nature,  that  his  most  devoted  friends 
could  not  refrain  from  complaining  to  each  other,  with  bit- 
ter grief  and  shame,  of  his  crooked  politics.  His  defeats, 
they  said,  gave  them  less  pain  than  his  intrigues.  Since  he 
had  been  a  prisoner,  there  was  no  section  of  the  victorious 
party  which  had  not  been  the  object  both  of  his  'flatteries 
and  of  his  machinations :  but  never  was  he  more  unfortunate 
than  when  he  attempted  at  once  to  cajole  and  to  undermine 
Cromwell. 

Cromwell  had  to  determine  whether  he  would  put  to  haz- 
ard the  attachment  of  his  party,  the  attachment  of  his  army, 
his  own  greatness,  nay,  his  own  life,  in  an  attempt,  which 
would  probably  have  been  vain,  to  save  a  prince  whom  no  en- 
gagement could  bind.  With  many  struggles  and  misgivings, 
and  probably  not  without  many  prayers,  the  decision  was 
made.  Charles  was  left  to  his  fate.  The  military  saints  re- 
solved that,  in  defiance  of  the  old  laws  of  the  realm  and  of 
the  almost  universal  sentiment  of  the  nation,  the  King  should 
expiate  his  crimes  with  his  blood.  He  for  a  time  expected  a 
death  like  that  of  his  unhappy  predecessors,  Edward  the  Sec- 
ond and  Richard  the  Second.  But  he  was  in  no  danger  of 
such  treason.  Those  who  had  him  in  their  gripe  were  not 
midnight  stabbers.  What  they  did  they  did  in  order  that  it 
might  be  a  spectacle  to  heaven  and  earth,  and  that  it  might 
be  held  in  everlasting  remembrance.  They  enjoyed  keenly 
the  very  scandal  which  they  gave.  That  the  ancient  consti- 
tution and  the  public  opinion  of  England  were  directly  op- 
posed to  regicide,  made  regicide  seem  strangely  fascinating  to 
a  party  bent  on  effecting  a  complete  political  and  social  revo- 
lution. In  order  to  accomplish  their  purpose,  it  was  neces- 
sary that  they  should  first  break  in  pieces  every  part  of  the 
machinery  of  the  government ;  and  this  necessity  \vas  rather 
agreeable  than  painful  to  them.  The  Commons  passed  a  vote 


126  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

tending  to  accommodation  with  the  King.  The  soldiers  ex- 
cluded the  majority  by  force.  The  Lords  unanimously  re- 
jected the  proposition  that  the  King  should  be  brought  to 
trial.  Their  house  was  instantly  closed.  No  court,  known 
to  the  law,  would  take  on  itself  the  office  of  judging  the  foun- 
tain of  justice.  A  revolutionary  tribunal  was  created.  That 
tribunal  pronounced  Charles  a  tyrant,  a  traitor,  a 
murderer,  and  a  public  enemy;  and  his  head  was 
severed  from  his  shoulders,  before  thousands  of  spectators,  in 
front  of  the  banqueting-hall  of  his  own  palace. 

In  no  long  time  it  became  manifest  that  those  political  and 
religious  zealots,  to  whom  this  deed  is  to  be  ascribed,  had  com- 
mitted, not  only  a  crime,  but  an  error.  They  had  given  to  a 
prince,  hitherto  known  to  his  people  chiefly  by  his  faults,  an 
opportunity  of  displaying,  on  a  great  theatre,  before  the  eyes 
of  all  nations  and  all  ages,  some  qualities  which  irresistibly 
call  forth  the  admiration  and  love  of  mankind,  the  high  spirit 
of  a  gallant  gentleman,  the  patience  and  meekness  of  a  peni- 
tent Christian.  Nay,  they  had  so  contrived  their  revenge  that 
the  very  man  whose  life  had  been  a  series  of  attacks  on  the 
liberties  of  England  now  seemed  to  die  a  martyr  in  the  cause 
of  those  liberties.  No  demagogue  ever  produced  such  an  im- 
pression on  the  public  mind  as  the  captive  King,  who,  retain- 
ing in  that  extremity  all  his  regal  dignity,  and  confronting 
death  with  dauntless  courage,  gave  utterance  to  the  feelings 
of  his  oppressed  people,  manfully  refused  to  plead  before  a 
court  unknown  to  the  law,  appealed  from  military  violence 
to  the  principles  of  the  constitution,  r.sked  by  what  right  the 
House  of  Commons  had  been  purged  of  its  most  respectable 
members  and  the  House  of  Lords  deprived  of  its  legislative 
functions,  and  told  his  weeping  hearers  that  he  was  defend- 
ing, not  only  his  own  cause,  but  theirs.  His  long  misgovern- 
ment,  his  innumerable  perfidies,  were  forgotten.  His  mem- 
ory was,  in  the  minds  of  the  great  majority  of  his  subjects, 
associated  with  those  free  institutions  which  he  had,  during 
many  years,  labored  to  destroy :  for  those  free  institutions 
had  perished  with  him,  and,  amidst  the  mournful  silence  of 
a  community  kept  down  by  arms,  had  been  defended  by  his 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  127 

voice  alone.  From  that  day  began  a  reaction  in  favor  of  mon- 
archy and  of  the  exiled  house,  a  reaction  which  never  ceased 
till  the  throne  had  again  been  set  up  in  all  its  old  dignity. 

At  first,  however,  the  slayers  of  the  King  seemed  to  have 
derived  new  energy  from  that  sacrament  of  blood  by  which 
they  had  bound  themselves  closely  together,  and  separated 
themselves  forever  from  the  great  body  of  their  countrymen. 
England  was  declared  a  commonwealth.  The  House  of  Com- 
mons, reduced  to  a  small  number  of  members,  was  nominally 
the  supreme  power  in  the  state.  In  fact,  the  army  and  its 
great  chief  governed  everything.  Oliver  had  made  his  choice. 
He  had  kept  the  hearts  of  his  soldiers,  and  had  broken  with 
almost  every  other  class  of  his  fellow-citizens.  Beyond  the 
limits  of  his  camps  and  fortresses  he  could  scarcely  be  said  to 
have  a  party.  Those  elements  of  force  which,  when  the  civil 
war  broke  out,  had  appeared  arrayed  against  each  other,  were 
combined  against  him ;  all  the  Cavaliers,  the  great  majority 
of  the  Roundheads,  the  Anglican  Church,  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  England,  Scotland,  Ire- 
land. Yet  such  was  his  genius  and  resolution  that  he  was 
able  to  overpower  and  crush  everything  that  crossed  his  path, 
to  make  himself  more  absolute  master  of  his  country  than 
any  of  her  legitimate  kings  had  been,  and  to  make  his  coun- 
try more  dreaded  and  respected  than  she  had  been  during 
many  generations  under  the  rule  of  her  legitimate  kings. 

England  had  already  ceased  to  struggle.  But  the  two  oth- 
er kingdoms  which  had  been  governed  by  the  Stuarts  were 
hostile  to  the  new  republic.  The  Independent  party  was 
equally  odious  to  the  Roman  Catholics  of  Ireland  and  to  the 
Presbyterians  of  Scotland.  Both  those  countries,  lately  in  re- 
bellion against  Charles  the  First,  now  acknowledged  the  au- 
thority of  Charles  the  Second. 

But  everything  yielded  to  the  vigor  and  ability  of  Crom- 
well. In  a  few  months  he  subjugated  Ireland,  as  Ireland  had 
never  been  subjugated  during  the  five  centuries  of 

Subjugation  of  T    i      f     i       i  j       •  It,       i  * 

Ireland  and      slaughter  which  had  elapsed  since  the  landing  01 

the  first  Norman  settlers.     He  resolved  to  put  an 

end  to  that  conflict  of  races  and  religions  which  had  so  long 


128  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

distracted  the  island,  by  making  the  English  and  Protestant 
population  decidedly  predominant  For  this  end  he  gave  the 
rein  to  the  fierce  enthusiasm  of  his  followers,  waged  war  re- 
sembling that  which  Israel  waged  on  the  Canaanites,  smote 
the  idolaters  with  the  edge  of  the  sword,  so  that  great  cities 
were  left  without  inhabitants,  drove  many  thousands  to  the 
Continent,  shipped  off  many  thousands  to  the  West  Indies, 
and  supplied  the  void  thus  made  by  pouring  in  numerous  col- 
onists, of  Saxon  blood  and  of  Calvinistic  faith.  Strange  to 
say,  under  that  iron  rule,  the  conquered  country  began  to 
wear  an  outward  face  of  prosperity.  Districts  •which  had 
recently  been  as  wild  as  those  where  the  first  white  settlers 
of  Connecticut  were  contending  with  the  red  men,  were  in 
a  few  years  transformed  into  the  likeness  of  Kent  and  Nor- 
folk. New  buildings,  roads,  and  plantations  were  everywhere 
seen.  The  rent  of  estates  rose  fast;  and  soon  the  English 
land-owners  began  to  complain  that  they  were  met  in  every 
market  by  the  products  of  Ireland,  and  to  clamor  for  protect- 
ing laws. 

From  Ireland  the  victorious  chief,  who  was  now  in  name, 
as  he  had  long  beeil  in  reality,  Lord  General  of  the  armies  of 
the  Commonwealth,  turned  to  Scotland.  The  young  King 
was  there.  He  had  consented  to  profess  himself  a  Presbyte- 
rian, and  to  subscribe  the  Covenant ;  and,  in  return  for  these 
concessions,  the  austere  Puritans  who  bore  sway  at  Edinburgh 
had  permitted  him  to  assume  the  crown,  and  to  hold,  under 
their  inspection  and  control,  a  solemn  and  melancholy  court. 
This  mock  royalty  was  of  short  duration.  In  two  great  bat- 
tles Cromwell  annihilated  the  military  force  of  Scotland. 
Charles  fled  for  his  life,  and,  with  extreme  difficulty,  escaped 
the  fate  of  his  father.  The  ancient  kingdom  of  the  Stuarts 
was  reduced,  for  the  first  time,  to  profound  submission.  Of 
that  independence,  so  manfully  defended  against  the  mighti- 
est and  ablest  of  the  Plantagenets,  no  vestige  was  left.  The 
English  Parliament  made  laws  for  Scotland.  English  judges 
held  assizes  in  Scotland.  Even  that  stubborn  Church,  which 
has  held  its  own  against  so  many  governments,  scarce  dared 
to  utter  an  audible  murmur. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  129 

Thus  far  there  had  been  at  least  the  semblance  of  harmony 
between  the  warriors  who  had  subjugated  Ireland  and  Scot- 
land and  the  politicians  who  sat  at  Westminster; 

Expulsion  of  -i-i-iii 

the  Long  par-   but  the  alliance  which  had  been  cemented  by  dan- 

liament.  .  _       -r-,      n. 

ger  was  dissolved  by  victory.  I  he  Parliament  for- 
got that  it  was  but  the  creature  of  the  army.  The  army  was 
less  disposed  than  ever  to  submit  to  the  dictation  of  the  Par- 
liament. Indeed,  the  few  members  who  made  up  what  was 
contemptuously  called  the  Rump  of  the  House  of  Commons 
had  no  more  claim  than  the  military  chiefs  to  be  esteemed 
the  representatives  of  the  nation.  The  dispute  was  soon 
brought  to  a  decisive  issue.  Cromwell  filled  the  House  with 
armed  men.  The  Speaker  was  pulled  out  of  his  chair,  the 
mace  taken  from  the  table,  the  room  cleared,  and  the  door 
locked.  The  nation,  which  loved  neither  of  the  contending 
parties,  but  which  was  forced,  in  its  own  despite,  to  respect 
the  capacity  and  resolution  of  the  General,  looked  on  with 
patience,  if  not  with  complacency. 

King,  Lords,  and  Commons  had  now  in  turn  been  van- 
quished and  destroyed ;  and  Cromwell  seemed  to  be  left  the 
sole  heir  of  the  powers  of  all  three.  Yet  were  certain  limi- 
tations still  imposed  on  him  by  the  very  army  to  which  he 
owed  his  immense  authority.  That  singular  body  of  men 
was,  for  the  most  part,  composed  of  zealous  republicans.  In 
the  act  of  enslaving  their  country,  they  had  deceived  them- 
selves into  the  belief  that  they  were  emancipating  her.  The 
book  which  they  most  venerated  furnished  them  with  a  prec- 
edent which  was  frequently  in  their  months.  It  was  true 
that  the  ignorant  and  ungrateful  nation  murmured  against 
its  deliverers.  Even  so  had  another  chosen  nation  murmur- 
ed against  the  leader  who  brought  it,  by  painful  and  dreary 
paths,  from  the  house  of  bondage  to  the  land  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey.  Yet  had  that  leader  rescued  his  brethren 
in  spite  of  themselves ;  nor  had  he  shrunk  from  making  ter- 
rible examples  of  those  who  contemned  the  proffered  free- 
dom, and  pined  for  the  flesh-pots,  the  taskmasters,  and  the 
idolatries  of  Egypt.  The  object  of  the  warlike  saints  who 
surrounded  Cromwell  was  the  settlement  of  a  free  and  pious 

L— 9 


130  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

commonwealth.  For  that  end  they  were  ready  to  employ, 
without  scruple,  any  means,  however  violent  and  lawless.  It 
was  not  impossible,  therefore,  to  establish  by  their  aid  a  dicta- 
torship such  as  no  king  had  ever  exercised ;  but  it  was  prob- 
able that  their  aid  would  be  at  once  withdrawn  from  a  ruler 
who,  even  under  strict  constitutional  restraints,  should  vent- 
ure to  assume  the  kingly  name  and  dignity. 

The  sentiments  of  Cromwell  were  widely  different.  He 
was  not  what  he  had  been ;  nor  would  it  be  just  to  consider 
the  change  which  his  views  had  undergone  as  the  effect  mere- 
ly of  selfish  ambition.  He  had,  when  he  came  up  to  the  Long 
Parliament,  brought  with  him  from  his  rural  retreat  little 
knowledge  of  books,  no  experience  of  great  affairs,  and  a  tem- 
per galled  by  the  long  tyranny  of  the  government  and  of  the 
hierarchy.  He  had,  during  the  thirteen  years  which  followed, 
gone  through  a  political  education  of  no  common  kind.  He 
had  been  a  chief  actor  in  a  succession  of  revolutions.  He 
had  been  long  the  soul,  and  at  last  the  head,  of  a  party.  He 
had  commanded  armies,  won  battles,  negotiated  treaties,  sub- 
dued, pacified,  and  regulated  kingdoms.  It  would  have  been 
strange  indeed  if  his  notions  had  been  still  the  same  as  in  the 
days  when  his  mind  was  principally  occupied  by  his  fields 
and  his  religion,  and  when  the  greatest  events  which  diversi- 
fied the  course  of  his  life  were  a  cattle-fair  or  a  prayer-meet- 
ing at  Huntingdon.  He  saw  that  some  schemes  of  innova- 
tion for  which  he  had  once  been  zealous,  whether  good  or 
bad  in  themselves,  were  opposed  to  the  general  feeling  of  the 
country,  and  that,  if  he  persevered  in  those  schemes,  he  had 
nothing  before  him  but  constant  troubles,  which  must  be  sup- 
pressed by  the  constant  use  of  the  sword.  He  therefore 
wished  to  restore,  in  all  essentials,  that  ancient  constitution 
which  the  majority  of  the  people  had  always  loved,  and  for 
which  they  now  pined.  The  course  afterward  taken  by  Monk 
was  not  open  to  Cromwell.  The  memory  of  one  terrible  day 
separated  the  great  regicide  forever  from  the  House  of  Stu- 
art. What  remained  was  that  he  should  mount  the  ancient 
English  throne,  and  reign  according  to  the  ancient  English 
polity.  If  he  could  effect  this,  he  might  hope  that  the 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  131 

wounds  of  the  lacerated  state  would  heal  fast.  Great  num- 
bers of  honest  and  quiet  men  would  speedily  rally  round 
him.  Those  Royalists  whose  attachment  was  rather  to  insti- 
tutions than  to  persons,  to  the  kingly  office  than  to  King 
Charles  the  First  or  King  Charles  the  Second,  would  soon 
kiss  the  hand  of  King  Oliver.  The  peers,  who  now  remained 
sullenly  at  their  country  houses,  and  refused  to  take  any 
part  in  public  affairs,  would,  when  summoned  to  their  House 
by  the  writ  of  a  king  in  possession,  gladly  resume  their  an- 
cient functions.  Northumberland  and  Bedford,  Manchester 
and  Pembroke,  would  be  proud  to  bear  the  crown  and  the 
spurs,  the  sceptre  and  the  globe,  before  the  restorer  of  aristoc- 
racy. A  sentiment  of  loyalty  would  gradually  bind  the  peo- 
ple to  the  new  dynasty ;  and,  on  the  decease  of  the  founder 
of  that  dynasty,  the  royal  dignity  might  descend  with  general 
acquiescence  to  his  posterity. 

The  ablest  Royalists  were  of  opinion  that  these  views  were 
correct,  and  that,  if  Cromwell  had  been  permitted  to  follow 
his  own  judgment,  the  exiled  line  would  never  have  been  re- 
stored. But  his  plan  was  directly  opposed  to  the  feelings  of 
the  only  class  which  he  dared  not  offend.  The  name  of  king 
was  hateful  to  the  soldiers.  Some  of  them  were  indeed  un- 
willing to  see  the  administration  in  the  hands  of  any  single 
person.  The  great  majority,  however,  were  disposed  to  sup- 
port their  general,  as  elective  first  magistrate  of  a  common- 
wealth, against  all  factions  which  might  resist  his  authority : 
but  they  would  not  consent  that  he  should  assume  the  regal 
title,  or  that  the  dignity,  which  was  the  just  reward  of  his 
personal  merit,  should  be  declared  hereditary  in  his  family. 
All  that  was  left  to  him  was  to  give  to  the  new  republic  a 
constitution  as  like  the  constitution  of  the  old  monarchy  as 
the  army  would  bear.-  •;  That  his  elevation  to  power  might  not 
seem  to  be  merely  his  own  act,  he  convoked  a  council,  com- 
posed partly  of  persons  on  whose  support  he  could  depend, 
and  partly  of  persons  whose  opposition  he  might  safely  defy. 
This  assembly,  which  he  called  a  Parliament,  and  which  the 
populace  nicknamed,  from  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  mem- 
bers, Barebone's  Parliament,  after  exposing  itself  during  a 


132  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

short  time  to  the  public  contempt,  surrendered  back  to  the 
General  the  powers  which  it  had  received  from  him,  and  left 
him  at  liberty  to  frame  a  plan  of  government. 

His  plan  bore,  from  the  first,  a  considerable  resemblance  to 

the  old  English  constitution  :  but,  in  a  few  years,  he  thought 

it  safe  to  proceed  further,  and  to  restore  almost  ev- 

Thc  Protector-  r 

ate  of  Oliver     ery  part  of  the  ancient  system  under  new  names 

C  roui  well 

and  forms.  The  title  of  King  was  not  revived : 
but  the  kingly  prerogatives  were  intrusted  to  a  Lord  High 
Protector.  The  sovereign  was  called  not  His  Majesty,  but 
His  Highness.  He  was  not  crowned  and  anointed  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  but  was  solemnly  enthroned,  girt  with  a  sword 
of  state,  clad  in  a  robe  of  purple,  and  presented  with  a  rich 
Bible,  in  Westminster  Hall.  His  office  was  not  declared  he- 
reditary :  but  he  was  permitted  to  name  his  successor ;  and 
none  could  doubt  that  he  would  name  his  son. 

A  House  of  Commons  wras  a  necessary  part  of  the  new  pol- 
ity. In  constituting  this  body,  the  Protector  showed  a  wisdom 
and  a  public  spirit  wrhich  were  not  duly  appreciated  by  his 
contemporaries.  The  vices  of  the  old  representative  system, 
though  by  no  means  so  serious  as  they  afterward  became,  had 
already  been  remarked  by  far-sighted  men.  Cromwell  re- 
formed that  system  on  the  same  principles  on  which  Mr.  Pitt, 
a  hundred  arid  thirty  years  later,  attempted  to  reform  it,  and 
on  which  it  was  at  length  reformed  in  our  own  times.  Small 
boroughs  were  disfranchised  even  more  unsparingly  than  in 
1832;  and  the  number  of  county  members  was  greatly  in- 
creased. Very  few  unrepresented  towns  had  yet  grown  into 
importance.  Of  those  towns  the  most  considerable  wrere  Man- 
chester, Leeds,  and  Halifax.  Representatives  were  given  to  all 
three.  An  addition  was  made  to  the  number  of  the  members 
for  tfye  capital.  The  elective  franchise  was  placed  on  such  a 
footing  that  every  man  of  substance,  whether  possessed  of  free- 
hold estates  in  land  or  not,  had  a  vote  for  the  county  in  which  he 
resided.  A  few  Scotchmen  and  a  few  of  the  English  colonists 
settled  in  Ireland  were  summoned  to  the  assembly  which  was 
to  legislate,  at  Westminster,  for  every  part  of  the  British  isles. 

To  create  a  House  of  Lords  was  a  less  easy  task.     Democra- 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  133 

cy  does  not  require  the  support  of  prescription.  Monarchy 
lias  often  stood  without  that  support.  But  a  patrician  order 
is  the  work  of  time.  Oliver  found  already  existing  a  nobility, 
opulent,  highly  considered,  and  as  popular  with  the  common- 
alty as  any  nobility  has  ever  been.  Had  he,  as  King  of  Eng- 
land, commanded  the  peers  to  meet  him  in  Parliament  accord- 
ing to  the  old  usage  of  the  realm,  many  of  them  would  un- 
doubtedly have  obeyed  the  call.  This  he  could  not  do ;  and 
it  was  to  no  purpose  that  he  offered  to  the  chiefs  of  illustrious 
families  seats  in  his  new  senate.  They  conceived  that  they 
could  not  accept  a  nomination  to  an  upstart  assembly  without 
renouncing  their  birthright  and  betraying  their  order.  The 
Protector  was,  therefore,  under  the  necessity  of  filling  his  Up- 
per House  with  new  men  who,  during  the  late  stirring  times, 
had  made  themselves  conspicuous.  This  was  the  least  happy 
of  his  contrivances,  and  displeased  all  parties.  The  Levellers 
were  angry  with  him  for  instituting  a  privileged  class.  The 
multitude,  which  felt  respect  and  fondness  for  the  great  his- 
torical names  of  the  land,  laughed  without  restraint  at  a  House 
of  Lords  in  which  lucky  draymen  and  shoemakers  were  seat- 
ed, to  which  few  of  the  old  nobles  were  invited,  and  from 
which  almost  all  those  old  nobles  who  were  invited  turned 
disdainfully  away. 

How  Oliver's  parliaments  were  constituted,  however,  was 
practically  of  little  moment ;  for  he  possessed  the  means  of 
conducting  the  administration  without  their  support,  and  in 
defiance  of  their  opposition.  His  wish  seems  to  have  been  to 
govern  constitutionally,  and  to  substitute  the  empire  of  the 
laws  for  that  of  the  sword.  But  he  soon  found  that,  hated  as 
he  was  both  by  Royalists  and  Presbyterians,  he  could  be  safe 
only  by  being  absolute.  The  first  House  of  Commons  which 
the  people  elected  by  his  command,  questioned  his  authority, 
and  was  dissolved  without  having  passed  a  single  act.  His 
second  House  of  Commons,  though  it  recognized  him  as  Pro- 
tector, and  would  gladly  have  made  him  king,  obstinately  re- 
fused to  acknowledge  his  new  lords.  He  had  no  course  left 
but  to  dissolve  the  Parliament.  "  God,"  he  exclaimed,  at 
parting,  "  be  judge  between  you  and  me !" 


134  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

Yet  was  the  energy  of  the  Protector's  administration  in  no- 
wise relaxed  by  these  dissensions.  Those  soldiers  who  would 
not  suffer  him  to  assume  the  kingly  title  stood  by  him  when 
he  ventured  on  acts  of  power,  as  high  as  any  English  king  has 
ever  attempted.  The  government,  therefore,  though  in  form 
a  republic,  was  in  truth  a  despotism,  moderated  only  by  the 
wisdom,  the  sobriety,  and  the  magnanimity  of  the  despot. 
The  country  was  divided  into  military  districts.  Those  dis- 
tricts were  placed  under  the  command  of  major-generals. 
Every  insurrectionary  movement  was  promptly  put  down  and 
punished.  The  fear  inspired  by  the  power  of  the  sword,  in  so 
strong,  steady,  and  expert  a  hand,  quelled  the  spirit  both  of 
Cavaliers  and  Levellers.  The  loyal  gentry  declared  that  they 
were  still  as  ready  as  ever  to  risk  their  lives  for  the  old  gov- 
ernment and  the  old  dynasty,  if  there  were  the  slightest  hope 
of  success ;  but  to  rush,  at  the  head  of  their  serving-men  and 
tenants,  on  the  pikes  of  brigades  victorious  in  a  hundred  bat- 
tles and  sieges,  would  be  a  frantic  waste  of  innocent  and  hon- 
orable blood.  Both  Royalists  and  Republicans,  having  no 
hope  in  open  resistance,  began  to  revolve  dark  schemes  of 
assassination :  but  the  Protector's  intelligence  was  good ;  his 
vigilance  was  unremitting ;  and,  whenever  he  moved  beyond 
the  walls  of  his  palace,  the  drawn  swords  and  cuirasses  of  his 
trusty  body-guards  encompassed  him  thick  on  every  side. 

Had  he  been  a  cruel,  licentious,  and  rapacious  prince,  the 
nation  might  have  found  courage  in  despair,  and  might  have 
made  a  convulsive  effort  to  free  itself  from  military  domina- 
tion. But  the  grievances  which  the  country  suffered,  though 
such  as  excited  serious  discontent,  were  by  no  means  such  as 
impel  great  masses  of  men  to  stake  their  lives,  their  fortunes, 
and  the  welfare  of  their  families  against  fearful  odds.  The 
taxation,  though  heavier  than  it  had  been  under  the  Stuarts, 
was  not  heavy  when  compared  with  that  of  the  neighboring 
states  and  with  the  resources  of  England.  Property  was  se- 
cure. Even  the  Cavalier,  who  refrained  from  giving  disturb- 
ance to  the  new  settlement,  enjoyed  in  peace  whatever  the 
civil  troubles  had  left  him.  The  laws  were  violated  only  in 
cases  where  the  safety  of  the  Protector's  person  and  govern- 


CM.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  135 

ment  was  concerned.  Justice  was  administered  between  man 
and  man  with  an  exactness  and  purity  not  before  known.  Un- 
der no  English  government  since  the  Reformation  had  there 
been  so  little  religious  persecution.  The  unfortunate  Roman 
Catholics,  indeed,  were  held  to  be  scarcely  within  the  pale  of 
Christian  charity.  But  the  clergy  of  the  fallen  Anglican 
Church  were  suffered  to  celebrate  their  worship  on  condition 
that  they  would  abstain  from  preaching  about  politics.  Even 
the  Jews,  whose  public  worship  had,  ever  since  the  thirteenth 
century,  been  interdicted,  were,  in  spite  of  the  strong  opposi- 
tion of  jealous  traders  and  fanatical  theologians,  permitted  to 
build  a  synagogue  in  London. 

The  Protector's  foreign  policy  at  the  same  time  extorted 
the  ungracious  approbation  of  those  who  most  detested  him. 
The  Cavaliers  could  scarcely  refrain  from  wishing  that  one 
who  had  done  so  much  to  raise  the  fame  of  the  nation  had 
been  a  legitimate  king;  and  the  Republicans  were  forced  to 
own  that  the  tyrant  suffered  none  but  himself  to  wrong  his 
country,  and  that,  if  he  had  robbed  her  of  liberty,  he  had  at 
least  given  her  glory  in  exchange.  After  half  a  century,  dur- 
ing which  England  had  been  of  scarcely  more  weight  in  Eu- 
ropean politics  than  Venice  or  Saxony,  she  at  once  became 
the  most  formidable  power  in  the  world,  dictated  terms  of 
peace  to  the  United  Provinces,  avenged  the  common  injuries 
of  Christendom  on  the  pirates  of  Barbary,  vanquished  the 
Spaniards  by  land  and  sea,  seized  one  of  the  finest  West  In- 
dian islands,  and  acquired  on  the  Flemish  coast  a  fortress 
which  consoled  the  national  pride  for  the  loss  of  Calais.  She 
was  supreme  on  the  ocean.  She  was  the  head  of  the  Prot- 
estant interest.  All  the  reformed  churches  scattered  over 
Roman  Catholic  kingdoms  acknowledged  Cromwell  as  their 
guardian.  The  Huguenots  of  Languedoc,  the  shepherds  who, 
in  the  hamlets  of  the  Alps,  professed  a  Protestantism  older 
than  that  of  Augsburg,  were  secured  from  oppression  by  the 
mere  terror  of  his  great  name.  The  Pope  himself  was  forced 
to  preach  humanity  and  moderation  to  Popish  princes.  For 
a  voice  which  seldom  threatened  in  vain  had  declared  that, 
unless  favor  were  shown  to  the  people  of  God,  the  English 


136  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

guns  should  be  heard  in  the  Castle  of  Saint  Angelo.  In 
truth,  there  was  nothing  which  Cromwell  had,  for  his  own 
sake  and  that  of  his  family,  so  much  reason  to  desire  as  a 
general  religious  war  in  Europe.  In  such  a  war  he  must 
have  been  the  captain  of  the  Protestant  armies.  The  heart 
of  England  would  have  been  with  him.  His  victories  would 
have  been  hailed  with  a  unanimous  enthusiasm  unknown  in 
the  country  since  the  rout  of  the  Armada,  and  would  have 
effaced  the  stain  which  one  act,  condemned  by  the  general 
voice  of  the  nation,  has  left  on  his  splendid  fame.  Unhap- 
pily for  him,  he  had  no  opportunity  of  displaying  his  admi- 
rable military  talents,  except  against  the  inhabitants  of  the 
British  isles. 

While  he  lived  his  power  stood  firm,  an  object  of  mingled 
aversion,  admiration,  and  dread  to  his  subjects.  Few  indeed 
loved  his  government ;  but  those  who  hated  it  most  hated  it 
less  than  they  feared  it.  Had  it  been  a  worse  government, 
it  might  perhaps  have  been  overthrown  in  spite  of  all  its 
strength.  Had  it  been  a  weaker  government,  it  would  cer- 
tainly have  been  overthrown  in  spite  of  all  its  merits.  But 
it  had  moderation  enough  to  abstain  from  those  oppressions 
which  drive  men  mad ;  and  it  had  a  force  and  energy  which 
none  but  men  driven  mad  by  oppression  would  venture  to 
encounter. 

It  has  often  been  affirmed,  but  with  little  reason,  that  Oliver 

died  at  a  time  fortunate  for  his  renown,  and  that,  if  his  life 

had  been  prolonged,  it  would  probably  have  closed 

Oliver  sue-  r  -IT  T       • 

i-eededby        amidst  disgraces  and  disasters.     It  is  certain  that 

Itichard. 

he  was,  to  the  last,  honored  by  his  soldiers,  obeyed 
by  the  whole  population  of  the  British  islands,  and  dreaded 
by  all  foreign  powers,  that  he  was  laid  among  the  ancient 
sovereigns  of  England  with  funeral  pomp  such  as  London 
had  never  before  seen,  and  that  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Richard  as  quietly  as  any  king  had  ever  been  succeeded  by 
any  Prince  of  Wales. 

During  five  months,  the  administration  of  Richard  Crom- 
well went  on  so  tranquilly  and  regularly  that  all  Europe  be- 
lieved him  to  be  firmly  established  on  the  chair  of  state. 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION.  137 

In  truth,  his  situation  was  in  some  respects  much  more  ad- 
vantageous than  that  of  his  father.  The  young  man  had 
made  no  enemy.  His  hands  were  unstained  by  civil  blood. 
The  Cavaliers  themselves  allowed  him  to  be  an  honest,  good- 
natured  gentleman.  The  Presbyterian  party,  powerful  both 
in  numbers  and  in  wealth,  had  been  at  deadly  feud  with  the 
late  Protector,  but  was  disposed  to  regard  the  present  Pro- 
tector with  favor.  That  party  had  always  been  desirous  to 
see  the  old  civil  polity  of  the  realm  restored  with  some  clear- 
er definitions  and  some  stronger  safeguards  for  public  liber- 
ty, but  had  many  reasons  for  dreading  the  restoration  of  the 
old  family.  Richard  was  the  very  man  for  politicians  of  this 
description.  His  humanity,  ingenuousness,  and  modesty,  the 
mediocrity  of  his  abilities,  and  the  docility  with  which  he 
submitted  to  the  guidance  of  persons  wiser  than  himself,  ad- 
mirably qualified  him  to  be  the  head  of  a  limited  monarchy. 

For  a  time  it  seemed  highly  probable  that  he  would,  under 
the  direction  of  able  advisers,  effect  what  his  father  had  at- 
tempted in  vain.  A  parliament  was  called,  and  the  writs 
were  directed  after  the  old  fashion.  The  small  boroughs 
which  had  recently  been  disfranchised  regained  their  lost  priv- 
ilege :  Manchester,  Leeds,  and  Halifax  ceased  to  return  mem- 
bers ;  and  the  county  of  York  was  again  limited  to  two 
knights.  It  may  seem  strange  to  a  generation  which  has  been 
excited  almost  to  madness  by  the  question  of  parliamentary 
reform  that  great  shires  and  towns  should  have  submitted  with 
patience,  and  even  with  complacency,  to  this  change :  but 
though  speculative  men  might,  even  in  that  age,  discern  the 
vices  of  the  old  representative  system,  and  predict  that  those 
vices  would,  sooner  or  later,  produce  serious  practical  evil,  the 
practical  evil  had  not  yet  been  felt.  Olivers  representative 
system,  on  the  other  hand,  though  constructed  on  sound  prin- 
ciples, was  not  popular.  Both  the  events  in  which  it  origi- 
nated, and  the  effects  which  it  had  produced,  prejudiced  men 
against  it.  It  had  sprung  from  military  violence.  It  had 
been  fruitful  of  nothing  but  disputes.  The  whole  nation  was 
sick  of  government  by  the  sword,  and  pined  for  government 
by  the  law.  The  restoration,  therefore,  even  of  anomalies  and 


138  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

abuses,  which  were  in  strict  conformity  with  the  law,  and  which 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  sword,  gave  general  satisfaction. 

Among  the  Commons  there  was  a  strong  opposition,  con- 
sisting partly  of  avowed  Republicans,  and  partly  of  concealed 
Royalists:  but  a  large  and  steady  majority  appeared  to  be 
favorable  to  the  plan  of  reviving  the  old  civil  constitution 
under  a  new  dynasty.  Richard  was  solemnly  recognized  as 
first  magistrate.  The  Commons  not  only  consented  to  trans- 
act business  with  Oliver's  Lords,  but  passed  a  vote  acknowl- 
edging the  right  of  those  nobles  who  had,  in  the  late  troubles, 
taken  the  side  of  public  liberty,  to  sit  in  the  Upper  House  of 
Parliament  without  any  new  creation. 

Thus  far  the  statesmen  by  whose  advice  Richard  acted  had 
been  successful.  Almost  all  parts  of  the  government  were 
now  constituted  as  they  had  been  constituted  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  civil  war.  Had  the  Protector  and  the  Parliament 
been  suffered  to  proceed  undisturbed,  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  an  order  of  things  similar  to  that  which  was  afterward 
established  under  the  House  of  Hanover  would  have  been  es- 
tablished under  the  House  of  Cromwell.  But  there  was  in 
the  state  a  power  more  than  sufficient  to  deal  with  Protector 
and  Parliament  together.  Over  the  soldiers  Richard  had  no 
authority  except  that  which  he  derived  from  the  great  name 
which  he  had  inherited.  He  had  never  led  them  to  victory. 
He  had  never  even  borne  arms.  All  his  tastes  and  habits 
were  pacific.  Nor  were  his  opinions  and  feelings  on  religious 
subjects  approved  by  the  military  saints.  That  he  was  a  good 
man  he  evinced  by  proofs  more  satisfactory  than  deep  groans 
or  long  sermons,  by  humility  and  suavity  when  he  was  at  the 
height  of  human  greatness,- and  by  cheerful  resignation  under 
cruel  wrongs  and  misfortunes :  but  the  cant  then  common  in 
every  guard-room  gave  him  a  disgust  which  he  had  not  always 
the  prudence  to  conceal.  The  officers  who  had  the  principal 
influence  among  the  troops  stationed  near  London  were  not 
his  friends.  They  were  men  distinguished  by  valor  and  con- 
duct in  the  field,  but  destitute  of  the  wisdom  and  civil  courage 
which  had  been  conspicuous  in  their  deceased  leader.  Some 
of  them  were  honest,  but  fanatical,  Independents  and  Republi- 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  EESTORATION.  139 

cans.  Of  this  class  Fleetwood  was  the  representative.  Oth- 
ers were  impatient  to  be  what  Oliver  had  been.  His  rapid 
elevation,  his  prosperity  and  glory,  his  inauguration  in  the 
Hall,  and  his  gorgeous  obsequies  in  the  Abbey,  had  inflamed 
their  imagination.  They  were  as  well-born  as  he,  and  as  well 
educated :  they  could  not  understand  why  they  were  not  as 
worthy  to  wear  the  purple  robe  and  to  wield  the  sword  of 
state ;  and  they  pursued  the  objects  of  their  wild  ambition, 
not,  like  him,  with  patience,  vigilance,  sagacity,  and  determi- 
nation, but  with  the  restlessness  and  irresolution  characteristic 
of  aspiring  mediocrity.  Among  these  feeble  copies  of  a  great 
original  the  most  conspicuous  was  Lambert. 

On  the  very  day  of  Richard's  accession  the  officers  began  to 
conspire  against  their  new  master.  The  good  understanding 
Fan  of  Richard  which  existed  between  him  and  his  Parliament 
thedLongpa°-  hastened  the  crisis.  Alarm  and  resentment  spread 
imment.  through  the  camp.  Both  the  religious  and  the 
professional  feelings  of  the  army  were  deeply  wounded.  It 
seemed  that  the  Independents  were  to  be  subjected  to  the 
Presbyterians,  and  that  the  men  of  the  sword  were  to  be  sub- 
jected to  the  men  of  the  gown.  A  coalition  was  formed  be- 
tween the  military  malcontents  and  the  republican  minority 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  It  may  well  be  doubted  whether 
Richard  could  have  triumphed  over  that  coalition,  even  if  he 
had  inherited  his  father's  clear  judgment  and  iron  courage.  It 
is  certain  that  simplicity  and  meekness  like  his  were  not  the 
qualities  which  the  conjuncture  required.  He  fell  inglorious- 
ly,  and  without  a  struggle.  He  was  used  by  the  army  as  an 
instrument  for  the  purpose  of  dissolving  the  Parliament,  and 
was  then  contemptuously  thrown  aside.  The  officers  gratified 
their  republican  allies  by  declaring  that  the  expulsion  of  the 
Rump  had  been  illegal,  and  by  inviting  that  assembly  to  re- 
sume its  functions.  The  old  Speaker  and  a  quorum  of  the 
old  members  came  together,  and  were  proclaimed,  amidst  the 
scarcely  stifled  derision  and  execration  of  the  whole  nation, 
the  supreme  power  in  the  commonwealth.  It  was  at  the 
same  time  expressly  declared  that  there  should  be  no  first 
magistrate,  and  no  House  of  Lords. 


140  HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  I. 

But  this  state  of  things  could  not  last.  On  the  day  on 
which  the  Long  Parliament  revived,  revived  also  its  old  quar- 
secondexpui-  rel  with' the  army.  Again  the  Kump  forgot  that 
Long°r-ariia-  ^  owed  its  existence  to  the  pleasure  of  the  soldiers, 
ment-  and  began  to  treat  them  as  subjects.  Again  the 

doors  of  the  House  of  Commons  were  closed  by  military  vio- 
lence ;  and  a  provisional  government,  named  by  the  officers, 
assumed  the  direction  of  affairs. 

Meanwhile  the  sense  of  great  evils,  and  the  strong  appre- 
hension of  still  greater  evils  close  at  hand,  had  at  length  pro- 
duced an  alliance  between  the  Cavaliers  and  the  Presbyteri- 
ans. Some  Presbyterians  had,  indeed,  been  disposed  to  such 
an  alliance  even  before  the  death  of  Charles  the  First :  but  it 
was  not  till  after  the  fall  of  Richard  Cromwell  that  the  whole 
party  became  eager  for  the  restoration  of  the  royal  house. 
There  was  no  longer  any  reasonable  hope  that  the  old  con- 
stitution could  be  re-established  under  a  new  dynasty.  One 
choice  only  was  left,  the  Stuarts  or  the  army.  The  banished 
family  had  committed  great  faults;  but  it  had  dearly  expi- 
ated those  faults,  and  had  undergone  a  long,  and,  it  might  be 
hoped,  a  salutary  training  in  the  school  of  adversity.  It  was 
probable  that  Charles  the  Second  would  take  warning  by  the 
fate  of  Charles  the  First.  But,  be  this  as  it  might,  the  dan- 
gers which  threatened  the  country  were  such  that,  in  order  to 
avert  them,  some  opinions  might  well  be  compromised,  and 
some  risks  might  \vell  be  incurred.  It  seemed  but  too  likely 
that  England  would  fall  under  the  most  odious  and  degrading 
of  all  kinds  of  government,  under  a  government  uniting  all 
the  evils  of  despotism  to  all  the  evils  of  anarchy.  Anything 
was  preferable  to  the  yoke  of  a  succession  of  incapable  and 
inglorious  tyrants,  raised  to  power,  like  the  Deys  of  Barbary, 
by  military  revolutions  recurring  at  short  intervals.  Lambert 
seemed  likely  to  be  the  first  of  these  rulers ;  but  within  a  year 
Lambert  might  give  place  to  Desborough,  and  Desborough  to 
Harrison.  As  often  as  the  truncheon  was  transferred  from 
one  feeble  hand  to  another,  the  nation  would  be  pillaged  for 
the  purpose  of  bestowing  a  fresh  donative  on  the  troops.  If 
the  Presbyterians  obstinately  stood  aloof  from  the  Royalists, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE   RESTORATION. 

the  state  was  lost ;  and  men  might  well  doubt  whether,  by  the 
combined  exertions  of  Presbyterians  and  Royalists,  it  could 
be  saved.  For  the  dread  of  that  invincible  army  was  on 
all  the  inhabitants  of  the  island ;  and  the  Cavaliers,  taught 
by  a  hundred  disastrous  fields  how  little  numbers  can  effect 
against  discipline,  were  even  more  completely  cowed  than  the 
Roundheads. 

While  the  soldiers  remained  united,  all  the  plots  and  ris- 
ings of  the  malcontents  were  ineffectual.  But  a  few  days 
'nie  army  of  after  the  second  expulsion  of  the  Rump,  came  ti- 
marchesinto  dings  which  gladdened  the  hearts  of  all  who  were 
England.  attached  either  to  monarchy  or  to  liberty.  That 
mighty  force  which  had,  during  many  years,  acted  as  one 
man,  and  which,  while  so  acting,  had  been  found  irresistible, 
was  at  length  divided  against  itself.  The  army  of  Scotland 
had  done  good  service  to  the  commonwealth,  and  was  in  the 
highest  state  of  efficiency.  It  had  borne  no  part  in  the  late 
revolutions,  and  had  seen  them  with  indignation  resembling 
the  indignation  which  the  Roman  legions  posted  on  the  Dan- 
ube and  the  Euphrates  felt  when  they  learned  that  the  em- 
pire had  been  put  up  to  sale  by  the  Praetorian  Guards.  It 
was  intolerable  that  certain  regiments  should,  merely  because 
they  happened  to  be  quartered  near  Westminster,  take  on 
themselves  to  make  and  unmake  several  governments  in  the 
course  of  half  a  year.  If  it  were  fit  that  the  state  should  be 
regulated  by  the  soldiers,  those  soldiers  who  upheld  the  Eng- 
lish ascendency  on  the  north  of  the  Tweed  were  as  well  enti- 
tled to  a  voice  as  those  who  garrisoned  the  Tower  of  London. 
There  appears  to  have  been  less  fanaticism  among  the  troops 
stationed  in  Scotland  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  army ;  and 
their  general,  George  Monk,  was  himself  the  very  opposite  of  a 
zealot.  He  had,  at  the  commencement  of  the  civil  war,  borne 
arms  for  the  King,  had  been  made  prisoner  by  the  Round- 
heads, had  then  accepted  a  commission  from  the  Parliament, 
and,  with  very  slender  pretensions  to  saintship,  had  raised 
himself  to  high  commands  by  his  courage  and  professional 
skill.  He  had  been  a  useful  servant  to  both  the  Protectors, 
had  quietly  acquiesced  when  the  officers  at  Westminster  pulled 


142  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

down  Richard  and  restored  the  Long  Parliament,  and  would 
perhaps  have  acquiesced  as  quietly  in  the  second  expulsion  of 
the  Long  Parliament,  if  the  provisional  government  had  ab- 
stained from  giving  him  cause  of  offence  and  apprehension. 
For  his  nature  was  cautious  and  somewhat  sluggish ;  nor  was 
he  at  all  disposed  to  hazard  sure  and  moderate  advantages  for 
the  chance  of  obtaining  even  the  most  splendid  success.  He 
seems  to  have  been  impelled  to  attack  the  new  rulers  of  the 
commonwealth  less  by  the  hope  that,  if  he  overthrew  them, 
he  should  become  great,  than  by  the  fear  that,  if  he  submitted 
to  them,  he  should  not  even  be  secure.  "Whatever  were  his 
motives,  he  declared  himself  the  champion  of  the  oppressed 
civil  power,  refused  to  acknowledge  the  usurped  authority  of 
the  provisional  government,  and,  at  the  head  of  seven  thou- 
sand veterans,  marched  into  England. 

This  step  was  the  signal  for  a  general  explosion.  The  peo- 
ple everywhere  refused  to  pay  taxes.  The  apprentices  of  the 
City  assembled  by  thousands  and  clamored  for  a  free  parlia- 
ment. The  fleet  sailed  up  the  Thames,  and  declared  against 
the  tyranny  of  the  soldiers.  The  soldiers,  no  longer  under 
the  control  of  one  commanding  mind,  separated  into  factions. 
Every  regiment,  afraid  lest  it  should  be  left  alone  a  mark  for 
the  vengeance  of  the  oppressed  nation,  hastened  to  make  a 
separate  peace.  Lambert,  who  had  hastened  northward  to 
encounter  the  army  of  Scotland,  was  abandoned  by  his  troops, 
and  became  a  prisoner.  During  thirteen  years  the  civil  power 
had,  in  every  conflict,  been  compelled  to  yield  to  the  military 
power.  The  military  power  now  humbled  itself  before  the 
civil  power.  The  Rump,  generally  hated  and  despised,  but 
still  the  only  body  in  the  country  which  had  any  show  of 
legal  authority,  returned  again  to  the  house  from  which  it 
had  been  twice  ignominiously  expelled. 

In  the  mean  time  Monk  was  advancing  toward  London. 
Wherever  he  came,  the  gentry  flocked  round  him,  imploring 
him  to  use  his  power  for  the  purpose  of  restoring  peace  and 
liberty  to  the  distracted  nation.  The  General,  cold-blooded, 
taciturn,  zealous  for  no  polity  and  for  no  religion,  maintained 
an  impenetrable  reserve.  What  were  at  this  time  his  plans, 


CH.  I.  BEFORE  THE  RESTORATION.  143 

and  whether  he  had  any  plan,  may  well  be  doubted.  His 
great  object,  apparently,  was  to  keep  himself,  as  long  as  pos- 
sible, free  to  choose  between  several  lines  of  action.  Such, 
indeed,  is  commonly  the  policy  of  men  who  are,  like  him, 
distinguished  rather  by  wariness  than  by  far-sightedness.  It 
was  probably  not  till  he  had  been  some  days  in  the  capital 
that  he  had  made  up  his  mind.  The  cry  of  the  whole  peo- 
ple was  for  a  free  parliament;  and  there  could  be  no  doubt 
that  a  parliament  really  free  would  instantly  restore  the  ex- 
iled family.  The  Rump  and  the  soldiers  were  still  hostile  to 
the  House  of  Stuart.  But  the  Rump  was  universally  detested 
and  despised.  The  power  of  the  soldiers  was  indeed  still  for- 
midable, but  had  been  greatly  diminished  by  discord.  They 
had  no  head.  They  had  recently  been,  in  many  parts  of  the 
country,  arrayed  against  each  other.  On  the  very  day  before 
Monk  reached  London,  there  was  a  fight  in  the  Strand  be- 
tween the  cavalry  and  the  infantry.  A  united  army  had  long 
kept  down  a  divided  nation ;  but  the  nation  was  now  united, 
and  the  army  was  divided. 

During  a  short  time,  the  dissimulation  or  irresolution  of 
Monk  kept  all  parties  in  a  state  of  painful  sus- 

Monk  declares  ,  f  L  TIT 

for  a  free  par-   pense.     At  length  he  broke  silence,  and  declared 

liament.  J  & 

tor  a  free  parliament. 

As  soon  as  his  declaration  was  known,  the  whole  nation  was 
wild  with  delight.  Wherever  he  appeared,  thousands  throng- 
ed round  him,  shouting  and  blessing  his  name.  The  bells  of 
all  England  rang  joyously :  the  gutters  ran  with  ale ;  and, 
night  after  night,  the  sky  five  miles  round  London  was  red- 
dened by  innumerable  bonfires.  Those  Presbyterian  mem- 
bers of  the  House  of  Commons  who  had  many  years  before 
been  expelled  by  the  army,  returned  to  their  seats,  and  were 
hailed  with  acclamations  by  great  multitudes,  which  filled 
Westminster  Hall  and  Palace  Yard.  The  Independent  lead- 
ers no  longer  dared  to  show  their  faces  in  the  streets,  and 
were  scarcely  safe  within  their  own  dwellings.  Temporary 
provision  was  made  for  the  government:  writs  were  issued 
for  a  general  election ;  and  then  that  memorable  Parliament, 
which  had,  in  the  course  of  twenty  eventful  years,  experi- 


HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

enced  every  variety  of  fortune,  which  had  triumphed  over  its 
sovereign,  which  had  been  enslaved  and  degraded  by  its  ser- 
vants, which  had  been  twice  ejected  and  twice  restored,  sol- 
emnly decreed  its  own  dissolution. 

The  result  of  the  elections  was  such  as  might  have  been  ex- 
oeneraieiec-  pected  from  the  temper  of  the  nation.  The  new 
tionofioeo.  IIouse.  of  Commons  consisted,  with  few  exceptions, 
of  persons  friendly  to  the  royal  family.  The  Presbyterians 
formed  the  majority. 

That  there  would  be  a  restoration  now  seemed  almost  cer- 
tain ;  but  whether  there  would  be  a  peaceable  restoration  was 
matter  of  painful  doubt.  The  soldiers  were  in  a  gloomy  and 
savage  mood.  They  hated  the  title  of  King.  They  hated  the 
name  of  Stuart.  They  hated  Presbyterian  ism  much,  and  Prel- 
acy more.  They  saw  with  bitter  indignation  that  the  close  of 
their  long  domination  was  approaching,  and  that  a  life  of  in- 
glorious toil  and  penury  was  before  them.  They  attributed 
their  ill  fortune  to  the  weakness  of  some  generals,  and  to  the 
treason  of  others.  One  hour  of  their  beloved  Oliver  might 
even  now  restore  the  glory  which  had  departed.  Betrayed, 
disunited,  and  left  without  any  chief  in  whom  they  could  con- 
fide, they  were  yet  to  be  dreaded.  It  was  no  light  thing  to 
encounter  the  rage  and  despair  of  fifty  thousand  fighting- 
men,  whose  backs  no  enemy  had  ever  seen.  Monk,  and  those 
with  whom  he  acted,  were  well  aware  that  the  crisis  was  most 
perilous.  They  employed  every  art  to  soothe  and  to  divide 
the  discontented  warriors.  At  the  same  time  vigorous  prep- 
aration was  made  for  a  conflict.  The  army  of  Scotland,  now 
quartered  in  London,  was  kept  in  good  humor  by  bribes, 
praises,  and  promises.  The  wealthy  citizens  grudged  nothing 
to  a  redcoat,  and  were  indeed  so  liberal  of  their  best  wine, 
that  warlike  saints  were  sometimes  seen  in  a  condition  not 
very  honorable  either  to  their  religious  or  to  their  military 
character.  Some  refractory  regiments  Monk  ventured  to  dis- 
band. In  the  mean  time  the  greatest  exertions  were  made 
by  the  provisional  government,  with  the  strenuous  aid  of  the 
whole  body  of  the  gentry  and  magistracy,  to  organize  the 
militia.  In  every  county  the  trainbands  were  held  ready  to 


CH.  I.  BEFORE   THE   RESTORATION.  145 

march;  and  this  force  cannot  be  estimated  at  less  than  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty  thousand  men.  In  Hyde  Park  twenty  thou- 
sand citizens,  well  armed  and  accoutred,  passed  in  review,  and 
showed  a  spirit  which  justified  the  hope  that,  in  case  of  need, 
they  would  fight  manfully  for  their  shops  and  firesides.  The 
fleet  was  heartily  with  the  nation.  It  was  a  stirring  time,  a 
time  of  anxiety,  yet  of  hope.  The  prevailing  opinion  was 
that  England  would  be  delivered,  but  not  without  a  desper- 
ate and  bloody  struggle,  and  that  the  class  which  had  so  long 
ruled  by  the  sword  would  perish  by  the  sword. 

Happily  the  dangers  of  a  conflict  were  averted.  There  was 
indeed  one  moment  of  extreme  peril.  Lambert  escaped  from 
his  confinement,  and  called  his  comrades  to  arms.  The  flame 
of  civil  war  was  actually  rekindled ;  but  by  prompt  and  vig- 
orous exertion  it  was  trodden  out  before  it  had  time  to  spread. 
The  luckless  imitator  of  Cromwell  was  again  a  prisoner.  The 
failure  of  his  enterprise  damped  the  spirit  of  the  soldiers ; 
and  they  sullenly  resigned  themselves  to  their  fate. 

The  new  Parliament,  which,  having  been  called  without 
the  royal  writ,  is  more  accurately  described  as  a  Convention, 
The  Restora-  me^  a^  Westminster.  The  Lords  repaired  to  the 
hall,  from  which  they  had,  during  more  than  eleven 
years,  been  excluded  by  force.  Both  Houses  instantly  in- 
vited the  King  to  return  to  his  country.  He  was  proclaimed 
with  pomp  never  before  known.  A  gallant  fleet  convoyed 
him  from  Holland  to  the  coast  of  Kent.  When  he  landed, 
the  cliffs  of  Dover  were  covered  by  thousands  of  gazers, 
among  whom  scarcely  one  could  be  found  who  was  not  weep- 
ing with  delight.  The  journey  to  London  was  a  continued 
triumph.  The  whole  road  from  Rochester  was  bordered  by 
booths  and  tents,  and  looked  like  an  interminable  fair.  Ev- 
erywhere flags  were  flying,  bells  and  music  sounding,  wine 
and  ale  flowing  in  rivers  to  the  health  of  him  whose  return 
was  the  return  of  peace,  of  law,  and  of  freedom.  But  in  the 
midst  of  the  general  joy,  one  spot  presented  a  dark  and  threat- 
ening aspect.  On  Blackheath  the  army  was  drawn  up  to 
welcome  the  sovereign.  He  smiled,  bowed,  and  extended  his 
hand  graciously  to  the  lips  of  the  colonels  and  majors.  But 

L— 10 


146  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  I. 

all  his  courtesy  was  vain.  The  countenances  of  the  soldiers 
were  sad  and  lowering;  and,  had  they  given  way  to  their 
feelings,  the  festive  pageant  of  which  they  reluctantly  made 
a  part  would  have  had  a  mournful  and  bloody  end.  But 
there  was  no  concert  among  them.  Discord  and  defection 
had  left  them  no  confidence  in  their  chiefs  or  in  each  other. 
The  whole  array  of  the  city  of  London  was  under  arms.  Nu- 
merous companies  of  militia  had  assembled  from  various  parts 
of  the  realm,  under  the  command  of  loyal  noblemen  and  gen- 
tlemen, to  welcome  the  King.  That  great  day  closed  in  peace ; 
and  the  restored  wanderer  reposed  safe  in  the  palace  of  his 
ancestors. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHAKLES  THE   SECOND.  147 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  history  of  England,  during  the  seventeenth  century,  is 
the  history  of  the  transformation  of  a  limited  monarchy,  con- 
conduct  of  stituted  after  the  fashion  of  the  Middle  Ages,  into 
storecuue re"  a  limited  monarchy  suited  to  that  more  advanced 
frtUunjus«yU~  state  of  society  in  which  the  public  charges  can  no 
longer  be  borne  by  the  estates  of  the  crown,  and  in 
which  the  public  defence  can  no  longer  be  intrusted  to  a  feu- 
dal militia.  We  have  seen  that  the  politicians  who  were  at 
the  head  of  the  Long  Parliament  made,  in  1642,  a  great  effort 
to  accomplish  this  change  by  transferring,  directly  and  for- 
mally, to  the  estates  of  the  realm  the  choice  of  ministers,  the 
command  of  the  army,  and  the  superintendence  of  the  whole 
executive  administration.  This  scheme  was,  perhaps,  the  best 
that  could  then  be  contrived ;  but  it  was  completely  discon- 
certed by  the  course  which  the  civil  war  took.  The  Houses 
triumphed,  it  is  true,  but  not  till  after  such  a  struggle  as 
made  it  necessary  for  them  to  call  into  existence  a  power 
which  they  could  not  control,  and  which  soon  began  to  dom- 
ineer over  all  orders  and  all  parties.  During  a  few  years,  the 
evils  inseparable  from  military  government  were,  in  some  de- 
gree, mitigated  by  the  wisdom  and  magnanimity  of  the  great 
man  who  held  the  supreme  command.  But  when  the  sword, 
which  he  had  wielded  with  energy,  indeed,  but  with  energy 
always  guided  by  good-sense  and  generally  tempered  by  good- 
nature, had  passed  to  captains  who  possessed  neither  his  abili- 
ties nor  his  virtues,  it  seemed  too  probable  that  order  and  lib- 
erty would  perish  in  one  ignominious  ruin. 

That  ruin  was  happily  averted.  It  has  been  too  much  the 
practice  of  writers  zealous  for  freedom  to  represent  the  Res- 
toration as  a  disastrous  event,  and  to  condemn  the  folly  or 
baseness  of  that  convention  which  recalled  the  royal  family 


148  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

without  exacting  new  securities  against  maladministration. 
Those  who  hold  this  language  do  not  comprehend  the  real 
nature  of  the  crisis  which  followed  the  deposition  of  Richard 
Cromwell.  England  was  in  imminent  danger  of  falling  un- 
der the  tyranny  of  a  succession  of  small  men  raised  up  and 
pulled  down  by  military  caprice.  To  deliver  the  country 
from  the  domination  of  the  soldiers  was  the  first  object  of 
every  enlightened  patriot ;  but  it  was  an  object  which,  while 
the  soldiers  were  united,  the  most  sanguine  could  scarcely 
expect  to  attain.  On  a  sudden  a  gleam  of  hope  appeared. 
General  was  opposed  to  general,  army  to  army.  On  the  use 
which  might  be  made  of  one  auspicious  moment  depended 
the  future  destiny  of  the  nation.  Our  ancestors  used  that 
moment  well.  They  forgot  old  injuries,  waived  petty  scru- 
ples, adjourned  to  a  more  convenient  season  all  dispute  about 
the  reforms  which  our  institutions  needed,  and  stood  together, 
Cavaliers  and  Roundheads,  Episcopalians  and  Presbyterians, 
in  firm  union,  for  the  old  laws  of  the  land  against  military 
despotism.  The  exact  partition  of  power  among  King,  Lords, 
and  Commons,  might  well  be  postponed  till  it  had  been  de- 
cided whether  England  should  be  governed  by  King,  Lords, 
and  Commons,  or  by  cuirassiers  and  pikemen.  Had  the  states- 
men of  the  Convention  taken  a  different  course,  had  they  held 
long  debates  on  the  principles  of  government,  had  they  drawn 
up  a  new  constitution  and  sent  it  to  Charles,  had  conferences 
been  opened,  had  couriers  been  passing  and  repassing  during 
some  weeks  between  Westminster  and  the  Netherlands,  with 
projects  and  counter-projects,  replies  by  Hyde  and  rejoinders 
by  Prynne,  the  coalition  on  which  the  public  safety  depended 
would  have  been  dissolved ;  the  Presbyterians  and  Royalists 
would  certainly  have  quarrelled ;  the  military  factions  might 
possibly  have  been  reconciled ;  and  the  misjudging  friends  of 
liberty  might  long  have  regretted,  under  a  rule  worse  than 
that  of  the  worst  Stuart,  the  golden  opportunity  which  had 
been  suffered  to  escape. 

The  old  civil  polity  was,  therefore,  by  the  general  consent 
of  both  the  great  parties,  re-established.  It  was  again  exactly 
what  it  had  been  when  Charles  the  First,  eighteen  years  be- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  149 

fore,  withe  row  from  his  capital.     All  those  acts  of  the  Long 
Parliament  which  had  received  the  royal  assent 

Abolition  of  .  * 

tenures  by       were  admitted  to  be  still  in  full  force.     One  fresh 

knight  service.  .  . 

concession,  a  concession  in  which  the  Cavaliers  were 
even  more  deeply  interested  than  the  Roundheads,  was  easily 
obtained  from  the  restored  King.  The  military  tenure  of 
land  had  been  originally  created  as  a  means  of  national  de- 
fence. But  in  the  course  of  ages  whatever  was  useful  in  the 
institution  had  disappeared,  and  nothing  was  left  but  ceremo- 
nies and  grievances.  A  landed  proprietor  who  held  an  es- 
tate under  the  crown  by  knight  service — and  it  was  thus  that 
most  of  the  soil  of  England  was  held — had  to  pay  a  large  fine 
on  coming  to  his  property.  He  could  not  alienate  one  acre 
without  purchasing  a  license.  When  he  died,  if  his  domains 
descended  to  an  infant,  the  sovereign  was  guardian,  and  was 
not  only  entitled  to  great  part  of  the  rents  during  the  minor- 
ity, but  could  require  the  ward,  under  heavy  penalties,  to  mar- 
ry any  person  of  suitable  rank.  The  chief  bait  which  attract- 
ed a  needy  sycophant  to  the  court  was  the  hope  of  obtaining, 
as  the  reward  of  servility  and  flattery,  a  royal  letter  to  an 
heiress.  These  abuses  had  perished  with  the  monarchy.  That 
they  should  not  revive  with  it  was  the  wish  of  every  landed 
gentleman  in  the  kingdom.  They  were,  therefore,  solemnly 
abolished  by  statute ;  and  no  relic  of  the  ancient  tenures  in 
chivalry  was  suffered  to  remain,  except  those  honorary  ser- 
vices which  are  still,  at  a  coronation,  rendered  to  the  person 
of  the  sovereign  by  some  lords  of  manors. 

The  troops  were  now  to  be  disbanded.  Fifty  thousand 
men,  accustomed  to  the  profession  of  arms,  were  at  once 
Disbanding  of  thrown  on  the  world  :  and  experience  seemed  to 
the  army.  -warrant  the  belief  that  this  change  would  produce 
much  misery  and  crime,  that  the  discharged  veterans  would 
be  seen  begging  in  every  street,  or  that  they  would  be  driven 
by  hunger  to  pillage.  But  no  such  result  followed.  In  a 
few  months  there  remained  not  a  trace  indicating  that  the 
most  formidable  army  in  the  world  had  just  been  absorbed 
into  the  mass  of  the  community.  The  Royalists  themselves 
confessed  that,  in  every  department  of  honest  industry,  the 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

discarded  warriors  prospered  beyond  other  men,  that  none 
was  charged  with  any  theft  or  robbery,  that  none  was  heard 
to  ask  an  alms,  and  that  if  a  baker,  a  mason,  or  a  wagoner 
attracted  notice  by  his  diligence  and  sobriety,  he  was  in  all 
probability  one  of  Oliver's  old  soldiers. 

The  military  tyranny  had  passed  away ;  but  it  had  left 
deep  and  enduring  traces  in  the  public  mind.  The  name  of 
standing  army  was  long  held  in  abhorrence :  and  it  is  remark- 
able that  this  feeling  was  even  stronger  among  the  Cavaliers 
than  among  the  Roundheads.  It  ought  to  be  considered  as  a 
most  fortunate  circumstance  that,  when  our  country  was,  for 
the  first  and  last  time,  ruled  by  the  sword,  the  sword  was 
in  the  hands,  not  of  her  legitimate  princes,  but  of  those  reb: 
els  who  slew  the  King  and  demolished  the  Church.  Had  a 
prince,  with  a  title  as  good  as  that  of  Charles,  commanded  an 
army  as  good  as  that  of  Cromwell,  there  would  have  been  lit- 
tle hope  indeed  for  the  liberties  of  England.  Happily  that 
instrument  by  which  alone  the  monarchy  could  be  made  ab- 
solute became  an  object  of  peculiar  horror  and  disgust  to  the 
monarchical  party,  and  long  continued  to  be  inseparably  asso- 
ciated in  the  imagination  of  Royalists  and  Prelatists  with  reg- 
icide and  field-preaching.  A  century  after  the  death  of  Crom- 
well, the  Tories  still  continued  to  clamor  against  every  aug- 
mentation of  the  regular  soldiery,  and  to  sound  the  praise  of 
a  national  militia.  So  late  as  the  year  1786,  a  minister  who 
enjoyed  no  common  measure  of  their  confidence  found  it  im- 
possible to  overcome  their  aversion  to  his  scheme  of  fortify- 
ing the  coast ;  nor  did  they  ever  look  with  entire  complacency 
on  the  standing  army  till  the  French  Revolution  gave  a  new 
direction  to  their  apprehensions. 

The  coalition  which  had  restored  the  King  terminated  with 
the  danger  from  which  it  had  sprung ;  and  two  hostile  par- 
ties again  appeared  ready  for  conflict.  Both,  in- 

Disputesbc-  fe  J  ,   .  '. 

tweenthe        deed,  were  agreed  as  to  the  propriety  01  inflicting 

Roundheads  * 

and  cavaliers    punishment  on  some  unhappy  men  who  were,  at 

renewed.  rr</ 

that  moment,  objects  of  almost  universal  hatred. 
Cromwell  was  no  more ;  and  those  who  had  fled  before  him 
were  forced  to  content  themselves  with  the  miserable  satisfac- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  151 

tion  of  digging  up,  hanging,  quartering,  and  burning  the  re- 
mains of  the  greatest  prince  that  has  ever  ruled  England. 
Other  objects  of  vengeance,  few  indeed,  yet  too  many,  were 
found  among  the  republican  chiefs.  Soon,  however,  the  con- 
querors, glutted  with  the  blood  of  the  regicides,  turned  against 
each  other.  The  Roundheads,  while  admitting  the  virtues  of 
the  late  King,  and  while  condemning  the  sentence  passed 
upon  him  by  an  illegal  tribunal,  yet  maintained  that  his  ad- 
ministration had  been,  in  many  things,  unconstitutional,  and 
that  the  Houses  had  taken  arms  against  him  from  good  mo- 
tives and  on  strong  grounds.  The  monarchy,  these  politicians 
conceived,  had  no  worse  enemy  than  the  flatterer  who  exalted 
the  prerogative  above  the  law,  who  condemned  all  opposition 
to  regal  encroachments,  and  who  reviled,  not  only  Cromwell 
and  Harrison,  but  Pym  and  Hampden,  as  traitors.  If  the 
King  wished  for  a  quiet  and  prosperous  reign,  he  must  con- 
tide  in  those  who,  though  they  had  drawn  the  sword  in  de- 
fence of  the  invaded  privileges  of  Parliament,  had  yet  ex- 
posed themselves  to  the  rage  of  the  soldiers  in  order  to  save 
his  father,  and  had  taken  the  chief  part  in  bringing  back  the 
royal  family. 

The  feeling  of  the  Cavaliers  was  widely  different.  During 
eighteen  years  they  had,  through  all  vicissitudes,  been  faith- 
ful to  the  crown.  Having  shared  the  distress  of  their  prince, 
were  they  not  to  share  his  triumph?  Was  no  distinction  to 
be  made  between  them  and  the  disloyal  subject  who  had 
fought  against  his  rightful  sovereign,  who  had  adhered  to 
Richard  Cromwell,  and  who  had  never  concurred  in  the  res- 
toration of  the  Stuarts,  till  it  appeared  that  nothing  else  could 
save  the  nation  from  the  tyranny  of  the  army  ?  Grant  that 
such  a  man  had,  by  his  recent  services,  fairly  earned  his  par- 
don. Yet  were  his  services,  rendered  at  the  eleventh  hour, 
to  be  put  in  comparison  with  the  toils  and  sufferings  of  those 
who  had  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day  ?  Was  he  to 
be  ranked  with  men  who  had  no  need  of  the  royal  clemency, 
with  men  who  had,  in  every  part  of  their  lives,  merited  the 
royal  gratitude  ?  Above  all,  was  he  to  be  suffered  to  retain  a 
fortune  raised  out  of  the  substance  of  the  ruined  defenders  of 


152  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

the  throne  ?  Was  it  not  enough  that  his  licad  and  his  patri- 
monial estate,  a  hundred  times  forfeited  to  justice,  were  se- 
cure, and  that  he  shared,  with  the  rest  of  the  nation,  in  the 
blessings  of  that  mild  government  of  which  he  had  long  been 
the  foe  ?  Was  it  necessary  that  he  should  be  rewarded  for 
his  treason  at  the  expense  of  men  whose  only  crime  was  the 
fidelity  with  which  they  had  observed  their  oath  of  allegiance? 
And  what  interest  had  the  King  in  gorging  his  old  enemies 
with  prey  torn  from  his  old  friends  ?  What  confidence  could 
be  placed  in  men  who  had  opposed  their  sovereign,  made  war 
on  him,  imprisoned  him,  and  who,  even  now,  instead  of  hang- 
ing down  their  heads  in  shame  and  contrition,  vindicated  all 
that  they  had  done,  and  seemed  to  think  that  they  had  given 
an  illustrious  proof  of  loyalty  by  just  stopping  short  of  regi- 
cide ?  It  was  true  that  they  had  lately  assisted  to  set  up  the 
throne  ;  but  it  was  not  less  true  that  they  had  previously  pull- 
ed it  down,  and  that  they  still  avowed  principles  which  might 
impel  them  to  pull  it  down  again.  Undoubtedly  it  might  be 
fit  that  marks  of  royal  approbation  should  be  bestowed  on 
some  converts  who  had  been  eminently  useful ;  but  policy,  as 
well  as  justice  and  gratitude,  enjoined  the  King  to  give  the 
highest  place  in  his  regard  to  those  who,  from  first  to  last, 
through  good  and  evil,  had  stood  by  his  house.  On  these 
grounds  the  Cavaliers  very  naturally  demanded  indemnity  for 
all  that  they  had  suffered,  and  preference  in  the  distribution 
of  the  favors  of  the  crown.  Some  violent  members,  of  the 
party  went  further,  and  clamored  for  large  categories  of  pro- 
scription. 

The  political  feud  was,  as  usual,  exasperated  by  a  religious 
feud.  The  King  found  the  Church  in  a  singular  state.  A 
Religious  short  time  before  the  commencement  of  the  civil 
dissension.  war,  his  father  had  given  a  reluctant  assent  to  a 
bill,  strongly  supported  by  Falkland,  which  deprived  the 
Bishops  of  their  seats  in  the  House  of  Lords :  but  Episcopacy 
and  the  Liturgy  had  never  been  abolished  by  law.  The  Long 
Parliament,  however,  had  passed  ordinances  which  had  made 
a  complete  revolution  in  Church  government  and  in  public 
worship.  The  new  system  was,  in  principle,  scarcely  less 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  153 

Erastian  than  that  which  it  displaced.  The  Houses,  guided 
chiefly  by  the  counsels  of  the  accomplished  Selden,  had  deter- 
mined to  keep  the  spiritual  power  strictly  subordinate  to  the 
temporal  power.  They  had  refused  to  declare  that  any  form 
of  ecclesiastical  polity  was  of  divine  origin ;  and  they  had 
provided  that,  from  all  the  Church  courts,  an  appeal  should 
lie  in  the  last  resort  to  Parliament.  With  this  highly  impor- 
tant reservation,  it  had  been  resolved  to  set  up  in  England  a 
hierarchy  closely  resembling  that  which  now  exists  in  Scot- 
land. The  authority  of  councils,  rising  one  above  another  in 
regular  gradation,  was  substituted  for  the  authority  of  Bishops 
and  Archbishops.  The  Liturgy  gave  place  to  the  Presbyte- 
rian Directory.  But  scarcely  had  the  new  regulations  been 
framed,  when  the  Independents  rose  to  supreme  influence  in 
the  state.  The  Independents  had  no  disposition  to  enforce 
the  ordinances  touching  classical,  provincial,  and  national  syn- 
ods. Those  ordinances,  therefore,  were  never  carried  into 
full  execution.  The  Presbyterian  system  was  fully  establish- 
ed nowhere  but  in  Middlesex  and  Lancashire.  In  the  other 
fifty  counties,  almost  every  parish  seems  to  have  been  uncon- 
nected with  the  neighboring  parishes.  In  some  districts,  in- 
deed, the  ministers  formed  themselves  into  voluntary  associa- 
tions, for  the  purpose  of  mutual  help  and  counsel ;  but  these 
associations  had  no  coercive  power.  The  patrons  of  livings, 
being  now  checked  by  neither  Bishop  nor  Presbytery,  would 
have  been  at  liberty  to  confide  the  cure  of  souls  to  the  most 
scandalous  of  mankind,  but  for  the  arbitrary  intervention  of 
Oliver.  He  established,  by  his  own  authority,  a  board  of 
commissioners,  called  Triers.  Most  of  these  persons  were  In- 
dependent divines;  but  a  few  Presbyterian  ministers  and  a 
few  laymen  had  seats.  The  certificate  of  the  Triers  stood  in 
the  place  both  of  institution  and  of  induction ;  and  without 
such  a  certificate  no  person  could  hold  a  benefice.  This  was 
undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  despotic  acts  ever  done  by  any 
English  ruler.  Yet,  as  it  was  generally  felt  that,  without 
some  such  precaution,  the  country  would  be  overrun  by  igno- 
rant and  drunken  reprobates,  bearing  the  name  and  receiving 
the  pay  of  ministers,  some  highly  respectable  persons,  who 


154  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

were  not  in  general  friendly  to  Cromwell,  allowed  that,  on 
this  occasion,  he  had  been  a  public  benefactor.  The  presen- 
tees whom  the  Triers  had  approved  took  possession  of  the  rec- 
tories, cultivated  the  glebe  lands,  collected  the  tithes,  prayed 
without  book  or  surplice,  and  administered  the  Eucharist  to 
communicants  seated  at  long  tables. 

Thus  the  ecclesiastical  polity  of  the  realm  was  in  inextrica- 
ble confusion.  Episcopacy  was  the  form  of  government  pre- 
scribed by  the  old  law  which  was  still  unrepealed.  The  form 
of  government  prescribed  by  parliamentary  ordinance  was 
Presbyterian.  But  neither  the  old  law  nor  the  parliamentary 
ordinance  was  practically  in  force.  The  Church  actually  es- 
tablished may  be  described  as  an  irregular  body  made  up  of  a 
few  Presbyteries  and  many  Independent  congregations,  which 
were  all  held  down  and  held  together  by  the  authority  of  the 
government. 

Of  those  who  had  been  active  in  bringing  back  the  King, 
many  were  zealous  for  Synods  and  for  the  Directory,  and 
many  were  desirous  to  terminate  by  a  compromise  the  relig- 
ious dissensions  which  had  long  agitated  England.  Between 
the  bigoted  followers  of  Laud  and  the  bigoted  followers  of 
Knox  there  could  be  neither  peace  nor  truce  ;  but  it  did  not 
seem  impossible  to  effect  an  accommodation  between  the 
moderate  Episcopalians  of  the  school  of  Usher  and  the  mod- 
erate Presbyterians  of  the  school  of  Baxter.  The  moderate 
Episcopalians  would  admit  that  a  bishop  might  lawfully  be 
assisted  by  a  council.  The  moderate  Presbyterians  would  not 
deny  that  each  provincial  assembly  might  lawfully  have  a 
permanent  president,  and  that  this  president  might  lawfully 
be  called  a  bishop.  There  might  be  a  revised  Liturgy  which 
should  not  exclude  extemporaneous  prayer,  a  baptismal  ser- 
vice in  which  the  sign  of  the  cross  might  be  used  or  omit- 
ted at  discretion,  a  communion  service  at  which  the  faithful 
might  sit  if  their  consciences  forbade  them  to  kneel.  But  to 
no  such  plan  could  the  great  body  of  the  Cavaliers  listen 
with  patience.  The  religious  members  of  that  party  were 
conscientiously  attached  to  the  whole  system  of  their  Church. 
She  had  been  dear  to  their  murdered  King.  She  had  con- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  155 

soled  them  in  defeat  and  penury.  Her  service,  so  often  whis- 
pered in  an  inner  chamber  during  the  season  of  trial,  had 
such  a  charm  for  them  that  they  were  unwilling  to  part  with 
a  single  response.  Other  Royalists,  who  made  little  pretence 
to  piety,  yet  loved  the  Episcopal  Church  because  she  was  the 
foe  of  their  foes.  They  valued  a  prayer  or  a  ceremony,  not 
on  account  of  the  comfort  which  it  conveyed  to  themselves, 
but  on  account  of  the  vexation  which  it  gave  to  the  Round- 
heads, and  were  so  far  from  being  disposed  to  purchase  union 
by  concession  that  they  objected  to  concession  chiefly  because 
it  tended  to  produce  union. 

Such  feelings,  though  blamable,  were  natural  and  not  whol- 
ly inexcusable.  The  Puritans  had  undoubtedly,  in  the  day  of 
unpopularity  their  power,  given  cruel  provocation.  They  ought 
of  the  Puritans.  f.Q  j^vg  learned,  if  from  nothing  else,  yet  from  their 
own  discontents,  from  their  own  struggles,  from  their  own 
victory,  from  the  fall  of  that  proud  hierarchy  by  which  they 
had  been  so  heavily  oppressed,  that  in  England,  and  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  civil  mag- 
istrate to  drill  the  minds  of  men  into  conformity  with  his 
own  system  of  theology.  They  proved,  however,  as  intoler- 
ant and  as  meddling  as  ever  Laud  had  been.  They  interdict- 
ed, under  heavy  penalties,  the  use  of  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer,  not  only  in  churches,  but  even  in  private  houses.  It 
was  a  crime  in  a  child  to  read  by  the  bedside  of  a  sick  parent 
one  of  those  beautiful  collects  which  had  soothed  the  griefs  of 
forty  generations  of  Christians.  Severe  punishments  were  de- 
nounced against  such  as  should  presume  to  blame  the  Calvin- 
istic  mode  of  worship.  Clergymen  of  respectable  character 
were  not  only  ejected  from  their  benefices  by  thousands,  but 
were  frequently  exposed  to  the  outrages  of  a  fanatical  rabble. 
Churches  and  sepulchres,  fine  works  of  art  and  curious  re- 
mains of  antiquity,  were  brutally  defaced.  The  Parliament 
resolved  that  all  pictures  in  the  royal  collection  which  con- 
tained representations  of  Jesus  or  of  the  Virgin  Mother  should 
be  burned.  Sculpture  fared  as  ill  as  painting.  Nymphs  and 
Graces,  the  work  of  Ionian  chisels,  were  delivered  over  to 
Puritan  stone  masons  to  be  made  decent.  Against  the  lighter 


156  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

vices  the  ruling  faction  waged  war  with  a  zeal  little  tempered 
by  humanity  or  by  common -sense.  Sharp  laws  were  passed 
against  betting.  It  was  enacted  that  adultery  should  be  pun- 
ished with  death.  The  illicit  intercourse  of  the  sexes,  even 
where  neither  violence  nor  seduction  was  imputed,  where  no 
public  scandal  was  given,  where  no  conjugal  right  was  vio- 
lated, was  made  a  misdemeanor.  Public  amusements,  from 
the  masks  which  were  exhibited  at  the  mansions  of -the  great 
down  to  the  wrestling-matches  and  grinning-matches  on  vil- 
lage greens,  were  vigorously  attacked.  One  ordinance  direct- 
ed that  all  the  May -poles  in  England  should  forthwith  be 
hewn  down.  Another  proscribed  all  theatrical  diversions. 
The  playhouses  were  to  be  dismantled,  the  spectators  fined, 
the  actors  whipped  at  the  cart's  tail.  Rope-dancing,  puppet- 
shows,  bowls,  horse -racing,  were  regarded  with  no  friendly 
eye.  But  bear-baiting,  then  a  favorite  diversion  of  high  and 
low,  was  the  abomination  which  most  strongly  stirred  the 
wrath  of  the  austere  sectaries.  It  is  to  be  remarked  that  their 
antipathy  to  this  sport  had  nothing  in  common  with  the  feel- 
ing which  has,  in  our  own  time,  induced  the  legislature  to  in- 
terfere for  the  purpose  of  protecting  beasts  against  the  wan- 
ton cruelty  of  men.  The  Puritan  hated  bear-baiting,  not  be- 
cause it  gave  pain  to  the  bear,  but  because  it  gave  pleasure  to 
the  spectators.  Indeed,  he  generally  contrived  to  enjoy  the 
double  pleasure  of  tormenting  both  spectators  and  bear.* 

*  How  little  compassion  for  the  bear  had  to  do  with  the  matter  is  sufficiently 
proved  by  the  following  extract  from  a  paper  entitled  A  perfect  Diurnal  of  some 
Passages  of  Parliament,  and  from  other  Parts  of  the  Kingdom,  from  Monday,  July 
24th,  to  Monday,  July  31st,  1643:  "Upon  the  Queen's  coining  from  Holland,  she 
brought  with  her,  besides  a  company  of  savage-like  ruffians,  a  company  of  savage 
bears,  to  what  purpose  you  may  judge  by  the  sequel.  Those  bears  were  left  about 
NTewark,  and  were  brought  into  country  towns  constantly  on  the  Lord's-day  to  be 
baited,  such  is  the  religion  those  here  related  would  settle  among  us ;  and,  if  any 
went  about  to  hinder  or  but  speak  against  their  damnable  profanations,  they  were 
presently  noted  as  Roundheads  and  Puritans,  and  sure  to  be  plundered  for  it. 
But  some  of  Colonel  Cromwell's  forces  coming  by  accident  into  Uppingham  town, 
in  Rutland,  on  the  Lord's-day,  found  these  bears  playing  there  in  the  usual  man- 
ner, and,  in  the  height  of  their  sport,  caused  them  to  be  seized  upon,  tied  to  a  tree 
and  shot."  This  was  by  no  means  a  solitary  instance.  Colonel  Pride,  when  Sher- 
iff of  Surrey,  ordered  the  beasts  in  the  bear-garden  of  Southwark  to  be  killed.  He 


On.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  157 

Perhaps  no  single  circumstance  more  strongly  illustrates 
the  temper  of  the  precisians  than  their  conduct  respecting 
Christmas-day.  Christmas  had  been,  from  time  immemorial, 
the  season  of  joy  and  domestic  affection,  the  season  when  fam- 
ilies assembled,  when  children  came  home  from  school,  when 
quarrels  were  made  up,  when  carols  were  heard  in  every 
street,  when  every  house  was  decorated  with  evergreens,  and 
every  table  was  loaded  with  good  cheer.  At  that  season  all 
hearts  not  utterly  destitute  of  kindness  were  enlarged  and 
softened.  At  that  season  the  poor  were  admitted  to  partake 
largely  of  the  overflowings  of  the  wealth  of  the  rich,  whose 
bounty  was  peculiarly  acceptable  on  account  of  the  shortness 
of  the  days  and  of  the  severity  of  the  weather.  At  that  sea- 
son the  interval  between  landlord  and  tenant,  master  and  ser- 
vant, was  less  marked  than  through  the  rest  of  the  year. 
Where  there  is  much  enjoyment  there  will  be  some  excess ; 
yet,  on  the  whole,  the  spirit  in  which  the  holiday  was  kept 
was  not  unworthy  of  a  Christian  festival.  The  Long  Parlia- 
ment gave  orders,  in  1644,  that  the  twenty-fifth  of  December 
should  be  strictly  observed  as  a  fast,  and  that  all  men  should 
pass  it  in  humbly  bemoaning  the  great  national  sin  which 
they  and  their  fathers  had  so  often  committed  on  that  day  by 
romping  under  the  mistletoe,  eating  boar's  head,  and  drinking 
ale  flavored  with  roasted  apples.  'No  public  act  of  that  time 
seems  to  have  irritated  the  common  people  more.  On  the 
next  anniversary  of  the  festival  formidable  riots  broke  out  in 
many  places.  The  constables  were  resisted,  the  magistrates 
insulted,  the  houses  of  noted  zealots  attacked,  and  the  pro- 
scribed service  of  the  day  openly  read  in  the  churches. 

Such  was  the  spirit  of  the  extreme  Puritans,  both  Presby- 
terian and  Independent.  Oliver,  indeed,  was  little  disposed 
to  be  either  a  persecutor  or  a  meddler.  But  Oliver,  the  head 
of  a  party,  and  consequently,  to  a  great  extent,  the  slave  of  a 

is  represented  by  a  loyal  satirist  as  defending  the  act  thus :  "  The  first  thing  that 
is  upon  my  spirits  is  the  killing  of  the  bears,  for  which  the  people  hate  me,  and 
call  me  all  the  names  in  the  rainbow.  But  did  not  David  kill  a  bear  ?  Did  not 
the  Lord  Deputy  Ireton  kill  a  bear  ?  Did  not  another  lord  of  ours  kill  five  bears  ?" 
— Last  Speech  and  Dying  Words  of  Thomas  Pride. 


158  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

party,  could  not  govern  altogether  according  to  his  own  in- 
clinations. Even  under  his  administration  many  magistrates, 
within  their  own  jurisdiction,  made  themselves  as  odious  as 
Sir  Iludibras,  interfered  with  all  the  pleasures  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, dispersed  festive  meetings,  and  put  fiddlers  in  the 
stocks.  Still  more  formidable  was  the  zeal  of  the  soldiers. 
In  every  village  where  they  appeared  there  was  an  end  of 
dancing,  bell -ringing,  and  hockey.  In  London  they  several 
times  interrupted  theatrical  performances  at  which  the  Pro- 
tector had  the  judgment  and  good-nature  to  connive. 

With  the  fear  and  hatred  inspired  by  such  a  tyranny  con- 
tempt was  largely  mingled.  The  peculiarities  of  the  Puritan, 
his  look,  his  dress,  his  dialect,  his  strange  scruples,  had  been, 
ever  since  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  favorite  subjects  with  mock- 
ers. But  these  peculiarities  appeared  far  more  grotesque  in 
a  faction  which  ruled  a  great  empire  than  in  obscure  and  per- 
secuted congregations.  The  cant,  which  had  moved  laughter 
when  it  was  heard  on  the  stage  from  Tribulation  Wholesome 
and  Zeal-of-the-Land  Busy,  was  still  more  laughable  when  it 
proceeded  from  the  lips  of  Generals  and  Councillors  of  State. 
It  is  also  to  be  noticed  that  during  the  civil  troubles  several 
sects  had  sprung  into  existence,  whose  eccentricities  surpassed 
anything  that  had  before  been  seen  in  England.  A  mad  tai- 
lor, named  Lodowick  Muggleton,  wandered  from  pothouse 
to  pothouse,  tippling  ale,  and  denouncing  eternal  torments 
against  those  who  refused  to  believe,  on  his  testimony,  that 
the  Supreme  Being  was  only  six  feet  high,  and  that  the  sun 
was  just  four  miles  from  the  earth.*  George  Fox  had  raised 
a  tempest  of  derision  by  proclaiming  that  it  was  a  violation 
of  Christian  sincerity  to  designate  a  single  person  by  a  plural 
pronoun,  and  that  it  was  an  idolatrous  homage  to  Janus  and 
Woden  to  talk  about  January  and  Wednesday.  His  doctrine, 
a  few  years  later,  was  embraced  by  some  eminent  men,  and 
rose  greatly  in  the  public  estimation.  But  at  the  time  of  the 
Restoration  the  Quakers  were  popularly  regarded  as  the  most 

*  See  Pcnn's  New  Witnesses  proved  Old  Heretics,  and  Muggleton's  works, 
passim. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  159 

despicable  of  fanatics.  By  the  Puritans  they  were  treated 
with  severity  here,  and  were  persecuted  to  the  death  in  New 
England.  Nevertheless  the  public,  which  seldom  makes  nice 
distinctions,  often  confounded  the  Puritan  with  the  Quaker. 
Both  w^ere  schismatics.  Both  hated  episcopacy  and  the  Lit- 
urgy. Both  had  what  seemed  extravagant  whimsies  about 
dress,  diversions,  and  postures.  Widely  as  the  two  differed 
in  opinion,  they  were  popularly  classed  together  as  canting 
schismatics ;  and  whatever  was  ridiculous  or  odious  in  either 
increased  the  scorn  and  aversion  wrhich  the  multitude  felt 
for  both. 

Before  the  civil  wars,  even  those  who  most  disliked  the 
opinions  and  manners  of  the  Puritan  were  forced  to  admit 
that  his  moral  conduct  was  generally,  in  essentials,  blameless ; 
but  this  praise  was  now  no  longer  bestowed,  and,  unfortu- 
nately, was  no  longer  deserved.  The  general  fate  of  sects 
is  to  obtain  a  high  reputation  for  sanctity  while  they  are  op- 
pressed, and  to  lose  it  as  soon  as  they  become  powerful :  and 
the  reason  is  obvious.  It  is  seldom  that  a  man  enrolls  him- 
self in  a  proscribed  body  from  any  but  conscientious  motives. 
Such  a  body,  therefore,  is  composed,  with  scarcely  an  excep- 
tion, of  sincere  persons.  The  most  rigid  discipline  that  can 
be  enforced  within  a  religious  society  is  a  very  feeble  instru- 
ment of  purification,  when  compared  with  a  little  sharp  per- 
secution from  without.  We  may  be  certain  that  very  few 
persons,  not  seriously  impressed  by  religious  convictions,  ap- 
plied for  baptism  while  Diocletian  was  vexing  the  Church, 
or  joined  themselves  to  Protestant  congregations  at  the  risk 
of  being  burned  by  Bonner.  But  when  a  sect  becomes  pow- 
erful, when  its  favor  is  the  road  to  riches  and  dignities,  world- 
ly and  ambitious  men  crowd  into  it,  talk  its  language,  con- 
form strictly  to  its  ritual,  mimic  its  peculiarities,  and  fre- 
quently go  beyond  its  honest  members  in  all  the  outward 
indications  of  zeal.  No  discernment,  no  watchfulness,  on  the 
part  of  ecclesiastical  rulers,  can  prevent  the  intrusion  of  such 
false  brethren.  The  tares  and  the  wheat  must  grow  together. 
Soon  the  world  begins  to  find  out  that  the  godly  are  not  bet- 
ter than  other  men,  and  argues,  with  some  justice,  that,  if  not 


160  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cu.  II. 

better,  they  must  be  much  worse.  In  no  long  time  all  those 
signs  which  were  formerly  regarded  as  characteristic  of  a 
saint  are  regarded  as  characteristic  of  a  knave. 

Thus  it  was  with  the  English  Non-conformists.  They  had 
been  oppressed ;  and  oppression  had  kept  them  a  pure  body. 
They  then  became  supreme  in  the  state.  No  man  could  hope 
to  rise  to  eminence  and  command  but  by  their  favor.  Their 
favor  was  to  be  gained  only  by  exchanging  with  them  the 
signs  and  passwords  of  spiritual  fraternity.  One  of  the  first 
resolutions  adopted  by  Barebone's  Parliament,  the  most  in- 
tensely Puritanical  of  all  our  political  assemblies,  was  that  no 
person  should  be  admitted  into  the  public  service  till  the 
House  should  be  satisfied  of  his  real  godliness.  What  were 
then  considered  as  the  signs  of  real  godliness — the  sad-colored 
dress,  the  sour  look,  the  straight  hair,  the  nasal  whine,  the 
speech  interspersed  with  quaint  texts,  the  Sunday,  gloomy  as 
a  Pharisaical  Sabbath — were  easily  imitated  by  men  to  whom 
all  religions  were  the  same.  The  sincere  Puritans  soon  found 
themselves  lost  in  a  multitude,  not  merely  of  men  of  the 
world,  but  of  the  very  worst  sort  of  men  of  the  world.  For 
the  most  notorious  libertine  who  had  fought  under  the  royal 
standard  might  justly  be  thought  virtuous  when  compared 
with  some  of  those  who,  while  they  talked  about  sweet  expe- 
riences and  comfortable  scriptures,  lived  in  the  constant  prac- 
tice of  fraud,  rapacity,  and  secret  debauchery.  The  people, 
with  a  rashness  which  we  may  justly  lament,  but  at  which  we 
cannot  wonder,  formed  their  estimate  of  the  whole  body  from 
these  hypocrites.  The  theology,  the  manners,  the  dialect  of 
the  Puritan,  were  thus  associated  in  the  public  mind  with  the 
darkest  and  meanest  vices.  As  soon  as  the  Restoration  had 
made  it  safe  to  avow  enmity  to  the  party  which  had  so  long 
been  predominant,  a  general  outcry  against  Puritanism  rose 
from  every  corner  of  the  kingdom,  and  was  often  swollen  by 
the  voices  of  those  very  dissemblers  whose  villany  had  brought 
disgrace  on  the  Puritan  name. 

Thus  the  two  great  parties,  which,  after  a  long  contest,  had 
for  a  moment  concurred  in  restoring  monarchy,  were,  both  in 
politics  and  in  religion,  again  opposed  to  each  other.  The 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  161 

great  body  of  the  nation  leaned  to  the  Ro'yalists.  The  crimes 
of  Strafford  and  Laud,  the  excesses  of  the  Star-chamber  and 
of  the  High  Commission,  the  great  services  which  the  Long 
Parliament  had,  during  the  first  year  of  its  existence,  rendered 
to  the  state,  had  faded  from  the  minds  of  men.  The  execu- 
tion of  Charles  the  First,  the  sullen  tyranny  of  the  Rump,  the 
violence  of  the  army,  were  remembered  with  loathing ;  and  the 
multitude  was  inclined  to  hold  all  wTho  had  withstood  the  late 
King  responsible  for  his  death  and  for  the  subsequent  disasters. 

The  House  of  Commons,  having  been  elected  while  the 
Presbyterians  were  dominant,  by  no  means  represented  the 
general  sense  of  the  people.  Most  of  the  members,  while  ex- 
ecrating Cromwell  and  Bradshaw,  reverenced  the  memory  of 
Essex  and  of  Pym.  One  sturdy  Cavalier,  who  ventured  to 
declare  that  all  who  had  drawn  the  sword  against  Charles  the 
First  were  as  much  traitors  as  those  who  had  cut  off  his  head, 
was  called  to  order,  placed  at  the  bar,  and  reprimanded  by  the 
Speaker.  The  general  wish  of  the  House  undoubtedly  was  to 
settle  the  ecclesiastical  disputes  in  a  manner  satisfactory  to  the 
moderate  Puritans.  But  to  such  a  settlement  both  the  court 
and  the  nation  were  averse. 

The  restored  King  was  at  this  time  more  loved  by  the  peo- 
ple than  any  of  his  predecessors  had  ever  been.  The  calami- 
character  of  ties  of  his  house,  the  heroic  death  of  his  father,  his 
charies  ii.  own  long-sufferings  and  romantic  adventures,  made 
him  an  object  of  tender  interest.  His  return  had  deliver- 
ed the  country  from  an  intolerable  bondage.  Recalled  by 
the  voice  of  both  the  contending  factions,  he  was  in  a  posi- 
tion which  enabled  him  to  arbitrate  between  them ;  and  in 
some  respects  he  was  well  qualified  for  the  task.  He  had 
received  from  nature  excellent  parts  and  a  happy  temper. 
His  education  had  been  such  as  might  have  been  expected 
to  develop  his  understanding,  and  to  form  him  to  the  practice 
of  every  public  and  private  virtue.  He  had  passed  through 
all  varieties  of  fortune,  and  had  seen  both  sides  of  human 
nature.  He  had,  while  very  young,  been  driven  forth  from 
a  palace  to  a  life  of  exile,  penury,  and  danger.  He  had,  at 
the  age  when  the  mind  and  body  are  in  their  highest  perfec- 

I.— 11 


162  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

tion,  and  when  the  first  effervescence  of  boyish  passions  should 
have  subsided,  been  recalled  from  his  wanderings  to  wTear  a 
crown.  He  had  been  taught  by  bitter  experience  how  much 
baseness,  perfidy,  and  ingratitude  may  lie  hid  under  the  ob- 
sequious demeanor  of  courtiers.  He  had  found,  on  the  other 
hand,  in  the  huts  of  the  poorest,  true  nobility  of  soul.  When 
wealth  was  offered  to  any  who  would  betray  him,  when  death 
was  denounced  against  all  who  should  shelter  him,  cottagers 
and  serving -men  had  kept  his  secret  truly,  and  had  kissed 
his  hand  under  his  mean  disguises  with  as  much  reverence 
as  if  he  had  been  seated  on  his  ancestral  throne.  From  such 
a  school  it  might  have  been  expected  that  a  young  man  who 
wanted  neither  abilities  nor  amiable  qualities  would  have  come 
forth  a  great  and  good  king.  Charles  came  forth  from  that 
school  with  social  habits,  with  polite  and  engaging  manners, 
and  with  some  talent  for  lively  conversation,  addicted  beyond 
measure  to  sensual  indulgence,  fond  of  sauntering  and  of  friv- 
olous amusements,  incapable  of  self-denial  and  of  exertion, 
without  faith  in  human  virtue  or  in  human  attachment,  with- 
out desire  of  renown,  and  without  sensibility  to  reproach.  Ac- 
cording to  him,  every  person  was  to  be  bought :  but  some  peo- 
ple haggled  more  about  their  price  than  others ;  and  when  this 
haggling  was  very  obstinate  and  very  skilful,  it  was  called  by 
some  fine  name.  The  chief  trick  by  which  clever  men  kept  up 
the  price  of  their  abilities  was  called  integrity.  The  chief  trick 
by  which  handsome  women  kept  up  the  price  of  their  beauty 
was  called  modesty.  The  love  of  God,  the  love  of  country, 
the  love  of  family,  the  love  of  friends,  were  phrases  of  the 
same  sort,  delicate  and  convenient  synonymes  for  the  love  of 
self.  Thinking  thus  of  mankind,  Charles  naturally  cared  very 
little  what  they  thought  of  him.  Honor  and  shame  were 
scarcely  more  to  him  than  light  and  darkness  to  the  blind. 
His  contempt  of  flattery  has  been  highly  commended,  but 
seems,  when  viewed  in  connection  with  the  rest  of  his  char- 
acter, to  deserve  no  commendation.  It  is  possible  to-be  be- 
low flattery  as  well  as  above  it.  One  who  trusts  nobody  will 
not  trust  sycophants.  One  who  does  not  value  real  glory  will 
not  value  its  counterfeit. 


Cii.II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  163 

It  is  creditable  to  Charles's  temper  that,  ill  as  he  thought  of 
his  species,  he  never  became  a  misanthrope.  He  saw  little  in 
men  but  what  was  hateful.  Yet  he  did  not  hate  them.  Nay, 
he  was  so  far  humane  that  it  was  highly  disagreeable  to  him 
to  see  their  sufferings  or  to  hear  their  complaints.  This, 
however,  is  a  sort  of  humanity  which,  though  amiable  and 
laudable  in  a  private  man  whose  power  to  help  or  hurt  is 
bounded  by  a  narrow  circle,  has  in  princes  often  been  rather 
a  vice  than  a  virtue.  More  than  one  well-disposed  ruler  has 
given  up  whole  provinces  to  rapine  and  oppression,  merely 
from  a  wish  to  see  none  but  happy  faces  round  his  own  board 
and  in  his  own  walks.  No  man  is  fit  to  govern  great  socie- 
ties who  hesitates  about  disobliging  the  few  who  have  access 
to  him,  for  the  sake  of  the  many  whom  he  will  never  see. 
The  facility  of  Charles  was  such  as  has  perhaps  never  been 
found  in  any  man  of  equal  sense.  He  was  a  slave  without 
being  a  dupe.  Worthless  men  and  women,  to  the  very  bot- 
tom of  whose  hearts  he  saw,  and  whom  he  knew  to  be  desti- 
tute of  affection  for  him  and  undeserving  of  his  confidence, 
could  easily  wheedle  him  out  of  titles,  places,  domains,  state 
secrets,  and  pardons.  He  bestowed  much;  yet  he  neither 
enjoyed  the  pleasure  nor  acquired  the  fame  of  beneficence. 
He  never  gave  spontaneously ;  but  it  was  painful  to  him  to 
refuse.  The  consequence  was  that  his  bounty  generally  went, 
not  to  those  who  deserved  it  best,  nor  even  to  those  whom 
he  liked  best,  but  to  the  most  shameless  and  importunate 
suitor  who  could  obtain  an  audience. 

The  motives  which  governed  the  political  conduct  of  Charles 
the  Second  differed  widely  from  those  by  which  his  predeces- 
sor and  his  successor  were  actuated.  He  was  not  a  man  to  be 
imposed  upon  by  the  patriarchal  theory  of  government  and 
the  doctrine  of  divine  right.  He  was  utterly  without  ambi- 
tion. He  detested  business,  and  would  sooner  have  abdicated 
his  crown  than  have  undergone  the  trouble  of  really  directing 
the  administration.  Such  was  his  aversion  to  toil,  and  such 
his  ignorance  of  affairs,  that  the  very  clerks  who  attended 
him  when  he  sat  in  council  could  not  refrain  from  sneering 
at  his  frivolous  remarks  and  at  his  childish  impatience.  Nei- 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

ther  gratitude  nor  revenge  bad  any  share  in  determining  his 
course ;  for  never  was  there  a  mind  on  which  both  services 
and  injuries  left  such  faint  and  transitory  impressions.  He 
wished  merely  to  be  a  king  such  as  Lewis  the  Fifteenth  of 
France  afterward  was — a  king  who  could  draw  without  limit 
on  the  treasury  for  the  gratification  of  his  private  tastes,  who 
could  hire  with  wealth  and  honor  persons  capable  of  assist- 
ing him  to  kill  the  time,  and  who,  even  when  the  state  was 
brought  by  maladministration  to  the  depths  of  humiliation 
and  to  the  brink  of  ruin,  could  still  exclude  unwelcome  truth 
from  the  purlieus  of  his  own  seraglio,  and  refuse  to  see  and 
hear  whatever  might  disturb  his  luxurious  repose.  For  these 
ends,  and  for  these  ends  alone,  he  wished  to  obtain  arbitrary 
power,  if  it  could  be  obtained  without  risk  or  trouble.  In  the 
religious  disputes  which  divided  his  Protestant  subjects  his 
conscience  was  not  at  all  interested ;  for  his  opinions  oscilla- 
ted in  contented  suspense  between  infidelity  and  Popery.  But, 
though  his  conscience  was  neutral  in  the  quarrel  between  the 
Episcopalians  and  the  Presbyterians,  his  taste  was  by  no  means 
so.  His  favorite  vices  were  precisely  those  to  which  the  Pu- 
ritans were  least  indulgent.  He  could  not  get  through  one 
day  without  the  help  of  diversions  which  the  Puritans  regard- 
ed as  sinful.  As  a  man  eminently  well-bred,  and  keenly  sensi- 
ble of  the  ridiculous,  he  was  moved  to  contemptuous  mirth  by 
the  Puritan  oddities.  He  had,  indeed,  some  reason  to  dislike 
the  rigid  sect.  He  had,  at  the  age  when  the  passions  are  most 
impetuous  and  when  levity  is  most  pardonable,  spent  some 
months  in  Scotland,  a  king  in  name,  but  in  fact  a  state-pris- 
oner in  the  hands  of  austere  Presbyterians.  Not  content  with 
requiring  him  to  conform  to  their  worship  and  to  subscribe 
their  Covenant,  they  had  watched  all  his  motions,  and  lectured 
him  on  all  his  youthful  follies.  He  had  been  compelled  to 
give  reluctant  attendance  at  endless  prayers  and  sermons,  and 
might  think  himself  fortunate  when  he  was  not  insolently  re- 
minded from  the  pulpit  of  his  own  frailties,  of  his  father's 
tyranny,  and  of  his  mother's  idolatry.  Indeed,  he  had  been 
so  miserable  during  this  part  of  his  life  that  the  defeat  which 
made  him  again  a  wanderer  might  be  regarded  as  a  deliver- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  105 

ance  rather  than  as  a  calamity.  Under  the  influence  of  such 
feelings  as  these,  Charles  was  desirous  to  depress  the  party 
which  had  resisted  his  father. 

The  King's  brother,  James,  Duke  of  York,  took  the  same 
side.  Though  a  libertine,  James  was  diligent,  methodical,  and 
characters  of  ^ond  of  authority  and  business.  His  understanding 
Y0erk  and  °Eari  was  singularly  slow  and  narrow,  and  his  temper  ob- 
of  clarendon.  stmate,  harsh,  and  unforgiving.  That  snch  a  prince 
should  have  looked  with  no  good  will  on  the  free  institutions 
of  England,  and  on  the  party  which  was  peculiarly  zealous 
for  those  institutions,  can  excite  no  surprise.  As  yet  the 
duke  professed  himself  a  member  of  the  Anglican  Church : 
but  he  had  already  shown  inclinations  which  had  seriously 
alarmed  good  Protestants. 

The  person  on  whom  devolved  at  this  time  the  greatest  part 
of  the  labor  of  governing  was  Edward  Hyde,  Chancellor  of 
the  realm,  who  was  soon  created  Earl  of  Clarendon.  The 
respect  which  we  justly  feel  for  Clarendon  as  a  writer  must 
not  blind  us  to  the  faults  which  he  committed  as  a  statesman. 
Some  of  those  faults,  however,  are  explained  and  excused  by 
the  unfortunate  position  in  which  he  stood.  He  had,  during 
the  first  year  of  the  Long  Parliament,  been  honorably  distin- 
guished among  the  senators  who  labored  to  redress  the  griev- 
ances of  the  nation.  One  of  the  most  odious  of  those  griev- 
ances, the  Council_of  York,  had  been  removed  in  consequence 
chiefly  of  his  exertions.  When  the  great  schism  took  place, 
when  the  reforming  party  and  the  conservative  party  first 
appeared  marshalled  against  each  other,  he,  with  many  wise 
and  good  men,  took  the  conservative  side.  He  thenceforward 
followed  the  fortunes  of  the  court,  enjoyed  as  large  a  share 
of  the  confidence  of  Charles  the  First  as  the  reserved  nature 
and  tortuous  policy  of  that  prince  allowed  to  any  minister, 
and  subsequently  shared  the  exile  and  directed  the  political 
conduct  of  Charles  the  Second.  At  the  Restoration  Hyde  be- 
came chief  minister.  In  a  few  months  it  was  announced  that 
he  was  closely  related  by  affinity  to  the  royal  house.  His 
daughter  had  become,  by  a  secret  marriage,  Duchess  of  York. 
His  grandchildren  might  perhaps  wear  the  crown.  He  was 


166  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

raised  by  this  illustrious  connection  over  the  heads  of  the 
old  nobility  of  the  land,  and  was  for  a  time  supposed  to  be  all- 
powerful.  In  some  respects  he  was  well  fitted  for  his  great 
place.  No  man  wrote  abler  state  papers.  No  man  spoke 
with  more  weight  and  dignity  in  Council  and  in  Parliament. 
No  man  was  better  acquainted  with  general  maxims  of  state- 
craft. No  man  observed  the  varieties  of  character  with  a 
more  discriminating  eye.  It  must  be  added  that  he  had  a 
strong  sense  of  moral  and  religious  obligation,  a  sincere  rev- 
erence for  the  laws  of  his  country,  and  a  conscientious  regard 
for  the  honor  and  interest  of  the  crown.  But  his  temper  was 
sour,  arrogant,  and  impatient  of  opposition.  Above  all,  he 
had  been  long  an  exile ;  and  this  circumstance  alone  would 
have  completely  disqualified  him  for  the  supreme  direction 
of  affairs.  It  is  scarcely  possible  that  a  politician  who  has 
been  compelled  by  civil  troubles  to  go  into  banishment,  and 
to  pass  many  of  the  best  years  of  his  life  abroad,  can  be  fit, 
on  the  day  on  which  he  returns  to  his  native  land,  to  be  at 
the  head  of  the  government.  Clarendon  was  no  exception  to 
this  rule.  He  had  left  England  with  a  mind  heated  by  a 
fierce  conflict  which  had  ended  in  the  downfall  of  his  party 
and  of  his  own  fortunes.  From  1646  to  1660  he  had  lived 
beyond  sea,  looking  on  all  that  passed  at  home  from  a 
great  distance,  and  through  a  false  medium.  His  notions  of 
public  affairs  were  necessarily  derived  from  the  reports  of 
plotters,  many  of  whom  were  ruined  and  desperate  men. 
Events  naturally  seemed  to  him  auspicious,  not  in  proportion 
as  they  increased  the  prosperity  and  glory  of  the  nation,  but 
in  proportion  as  they  tended  to  hasten  the  hour  of  his  own 
return.  His  wish,  a  wish  which  he  has  not  disguised,  was 
that,  till  his  countrymen  brought  back  the  old  line,  they 
might  never  enjoy  quiet  or  freedom.  At  length  he  returned  ; 
and,  without  having  a  single  week  to  look  about  him,  to  mix 
with  society,  to  note  the  changes  which  fourteen  eventful 
years  had  produced  in  the  national  character  and  feelings,  he 
was  at  once  set  to  rule  the  state.  In  such  circumstances, 
a  minister  of  the  greatest  tact  and  docility  would  probably 
have  fallen,  into  serious  errors.  But  tact  and  docility  made 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  167 

no  part  of  the  character  of  Clarendon.  To  him  England  was 
still  the  England  of  his  youth ;  and  he  sternly  frowned  down 
every  theory  and  every  practice  which  had  sprung  up  during 
his  own  exile.  Though  he  was  far  from  meditating  any  at- 
tack on  the  ancient  and  undoubted  power  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  he  saw  with  extreme  uneasiness  the  growth  of  that 
power.  The  royal  prerogative,  for  which  he  had  long  suffer- 
ed, and  by  which  he  had  at  length  been  raised  to  wealth  and 
dignity,  was  sacred  in  his  eyes.  The  Roundheads  he  regard- 
ed both  with  political  and  with  personal  aversion.  To  the 
Anglican  Church  he  had  always  been  strongly  attached,  and 
had  repeatedly,  where  her  interests  were  concerned,  separated 
himself  with  regret  from  his  dearest  friends.  His  zeal  for 
episcopacy  and  for  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  was  now 
more  ardent  than  ever,  and  was  mingled  with  a  vindictive 
hatred  of  the  Puritans,  which  did  him  little  honor  either  as  a 
statesman  or  as  a  Christian. 

While  the  House  of  Commons  which  had  recalled  the  royal 
family  was  sitting,  it  was  impossible  to  effect  the  re-establish- 
ment of  the  old  ecclesiastical  system.  Not  only  were  the  in- 
tentions of  the  court  strictly  concealed,  but  assurances  which 
quieted  the  minds  of  the  moderate  Presbyterians  were  given 
by  the  King  in  the  most  solemn  manner.  He  had  promised, 
before  his  restoration,  that  he  would  grant  liberty  of  con- 
science to  his  subjects.  He  now  repeated  that  promise,  and 
added  a  promise  to  use  his  best  endeavors  for  the  purpose  of 
effecting  a  compromise  between  the  contending  sects.  He 
wished,  he  said,  to  see  the  spiritual  jurisdiction  divided  be- 
tween bishops  and  synods.  The  Liturgy  should  be  revised 
by  a  body  of  learned  divines,  one  half  of  whom  should  be 
Presbyterians.  The  questions  respecting  the  surplice,  the 
posture  at  the  Eucharist,  and  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  baptism, 
should  be  settled  in  a  way  which  would  set  tender  consciences 
at  ease.  When  the  King  had  thus  laid  asleep  the  vigilance 
of  those  whom  he  most  feared,  he  dissolved  the  Parliament. 
He  had  already  given  his  assent  to  an  act  by  which  an  amnes- 
ty was  granted,  with  few  exceptions,  to  all  who,  during  the 
late  troubles,  had  been  guilty  of  political  offences.  He  had 


168  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

also  obtained  from  the  Commons  a  grant  for  life  of  taxes, 
the  annual  produce  of  which  was  estimated  at  twelve  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds.  The  actual  income,  indeed,  during 
some  years,  amounted  to  little  more  than  a  million ;  but  this 
sum,  together  with  the  hereditary  revenue  of  the  crown,  was 
then  sufficient  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  government  in 
time  of  peace.  Nothing  was  allowed  for  a  standing  army. 
The  nation  was  sick  of  the  very  name ;  and  the  least  mention 
of  such  a  force  would  have  incensed  and  alarmed  all  parties. 

Early  in  1661  took  place  a  general  election.  The  people 
were  mad  with  loyal  enthusiasm.  The  capital  was  excited  by 
General  eiec-  preparations  for  the  most  splendid  coronation  that 
uon  or  i66i.  had  eyer  been  known  The  result  was  that  a  body 

of  representatives  was  returned,  such  as  England  had  never 
yet  seen.  A  large  proportion  of  the  successful  candidates 
were  men  who  had  fought  for  the  Crown  and  the  Church, 
and  whose  minds  had  been  exasperated  by  many  injuries  and 
insults  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  Roundheads.  When  the 
members  met,  the  passions  which  animated  each  individually 
acquired  new  strength  from  sympathy.  The  House  of  Com- 
mons was,  during  some  years,  more  zealous  for  royalty  than 
the  King,  more  zealous  for  episcopacy  than  the  Bishops. 
Charles  and  Clarendon  were  almost  terrified  at  the  complete- 
ness of  their  own  success.  They  found  themselves  in  a  situa- 
tion not  unlike  that  in  which  Lewis  the  Eighteenth  and  the 
Duke  of  Richelieu  were  placed  while  the  Chamber  of  1815 
was  sitting.  Even  if  the  King  had  been  desirous  to  fulfil  the 
promises  which  he  had  made  to  the  Presbyterians,  it  would 
have  been  out  of  his  power  to  do  so.  It  was  indeed  only  by 
the  strong  exertion  of  his  influence  that  he  could  prevent  the 
victorious  Cavaliers  from  rescinding  the  act  of  indemnity,  and 
retaliating  without  mercy  all  that  they  had  suffered. 

The  Commons  began  by  resolving  that  every  member 
should,  on  pain  of  expulsion,  take  the  sacrament  according 
violence  of  the  *°  the  form  prescribed  by  the  old  Liturgy,  and 
ufevnewp£-  that  tne  Covenant  should  be  burned  by  the  hang- 
liament.  man  'n  pa]ace  Yard.  An  act  was  passed,  which  not 
only  acknowledged  the  power  of  the  sword  to  be  solely  in  the 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  169 

King,  but  declared  that  in  no  extremity  whatever  could  the 
two  Houses  be  justified  in  withstanding  him  by  force.  An- 
other act  was  passed  which  required  every  officer  of  a  corpo- 
ration to  receive  the  Eucharist  according  to  the  rites  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  to  swear  that  he  held  resistance  to 
the  King's  authority  to  be  in  all  cases  unlawful.  A  few  hot- 
headed men  wished  to  bring  in  a  bill  which  should  at  once 
annul  all  the  statutes  passed  by  the  Long  Parliament,  and 
should  restore  the  Star-chamber  and  the  High  Commission  ; 
but  the  reaction,  violent  as  it  was,  did  not  proceed  quite  to 
this  length.  It  still  continued  to  be  the  law  that  a  parlia- 
ment should  be  held  .every  three  years:  but  the  stringent 
clauses  which  directed  the  returning  officers  to  proceed  to 
election  at  the  proper  time,  even  without  the  royal  writ,  were 
repealed.  The  Bishops  were  restored  to  their  seats  in  the 
Upper  House.  The  old  ecclesiastical  polity  and  the  old  Lit- 
urgy were  revived  without  any  modification  which  had  any 
tendency  to  conciliate  even  the  most  reasonable  Presbyte- 
rians. Episcopal  ordination  was  now,  for  the  first  time,  made 
an  indispensable  qualification  for  Church  preferment.  About 
two  thousand  ministers  of  religion,  whose  conscience  did  not 
suffer  them  to  conform,  were  driven  from  their  benefices  in 
one  day.  The  dominant  party  exultingly  reminded  the  suf- 
ferers that  the  Long  Parliament,  when  at  the  height  of  pow- 
er, had  turned  out  a  still  greater  number  of  Royalist  divines. 
The  reproach  was  but  too  well  founded :  but  the  Long  Par- 
liament had  at  least  allowed  to  the  divines  whom  it  ejected 
a  provision  sufficient  to  keep  them  from  starving ;  and  this 
example  the  Cavaliers,  intoxicated  with  animosity,  had  not 
the  justice  and  humanity  to  follow. 

Then  came  penal  statutes  against  Non-conformists,  statutes 
for  which  precedents  might  too  easily  be  found  in  the  Puritan 
Persecution  of  legislation,  but  to  which  the  King  could  not  give 
the  Puritans,  j^g  asgent  without  a  breach  of  promises  publicly 
made,  in  the  most  important  crisis  of  his  life,  to  those  on 
whom  his  fate  depended.  The  Presbyterians,  in  extreme  dis- 
tress and  terror,  fled  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  pleaded 
their  recent  services  and  the  royal  faith  solemnly  and  repeat- 


170  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

edly  plighted.  The  King  wavered.  He  could  not  deny  his 
own  hand  and  seal.  He  could  not  but  be  conscious  that  he 
owed  much  to  the  petitioners.  He  was  little  in  the  habit  of 
resisting  importunate  solicitation.  His  temper  was  not  that 
of  a  persecutor.  He  disliked  the  Puritans  indeed ;  but  in 
him  dislike  was  a  languid  feeling,  very  little  resembling  the 
energetic  hatred  which  had  burned  in  the  heart  of  Laud.  He 
was,  moreover,  partial  to  the  Roman  Catholic  religion ;  and 
he  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  grant  liberty  of  wor- 
ship to  the  professors  of  that  religion  without  extending  the 
same  indulgence  to  Protestant  dissenters.  He  therefore  made 
a  feeble  attempt  to  restrain  the  intolerant  zeal  of  the  House 
of  Commons ;  but  that'  House  was  under  the  influence  of  far 
deeper  convictions  and  far  stronger  passions  than  his  own. 
After  a  faint  struggle  he  yielded,  and  passed,  with  the  show 
of  alacrity,  a  series  of  odious  acts  against  the  separatists.  It 
was  made  a  crime  to  attend  a  dissenting  place  of  worship.  A 
single  justice  of  the  peace  might  convict  without  a  jury,  and 
might,  for  the  third  offence,  pass  sentence  of  transportation 
beyond  sea  for  seven  years.  With  refined  cruelty  it  was  pro- 
vided that  the  offender  should  not  be  transported  to  New 
England,  where  he  was  likely  to  find  sympathizing  friends. 
If  he  returned  to  his  own  country  before  the  expiration  of 
his  term  of  exile,  he  was  liable  to  capital  punishment.  A 
new  and  most  unreasonable  test  was  imposed  on  divines  who 
had  been  deprived  of  their  benefices  for  non-conformity;  and 
all  who  refused  to  take  that  test  were  prohibited  from  coming 
within  five  miles  of  any  town  which  was  governed  by  a  cor- 
poration, of  any  town  which  was  represented  in  Parliament,  or 
of  any  town  where  they  had  themselves  resided  as  ministers. 
The  magistrates,  by  whom  these  rigorous  statutes  were  to  be 
enforced,  were  in  general  men  inflamed  by  party  spirit  and 
by  the  remembrance  of  wrongs  suffered  in  the  time  of  the 
Commonwealth.  The  jails  were  therefore  soon  crowded  with 
dissenters ;  and  among  the  sufferers  were  some  of  whose  gen- 
ius and  virtue  any  Christian  society  might  well  be  proud. 

The  Church  of  England  was  not  ungrateful  for  the  protec- 
tion which  she  received  from  the  government.     From  the 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  171 

first  day  of  her  existence,  she  had  been  attached  to  monarchy, 
zeal  of  the  But,  during  the  quarter  of  a  century  which  fol- 
heredit'ar^  lowed  the  Restoration,  her  zeal  for  royal  authority 
monarchy.  and  hereditary  right  passed  all  bounds.  She  had 
suffered  with  the  House  of  Stuart.  She  had  been  restored 
with  that  House.  She  was  connected  with  it  by  common 
interests,  friendships,  and  enmities.  It  seemed  impossible 
that  a  day  could  ever  come  when  the  ties  which  bound  her 
to  the  children  of  her  august  martyr  would  be  sundered,  and 
when  the  loyalty  in  which  she  gloried  would  cease  to  be  a 
pleasing  and  profitable  duty.  She  accordingly  magnified 
in  fulsome  phrase  that  prerogative  which  was  constantly 
employed  to  defend  and  to  aggrandize  her,  and  reprobated, 
much  at  her  ease,  the  depravity  of  those  whom  oppression, 
from  which  she  wras  exempt,  had  goaded  to  rebellion.  Her 
favorite  theme  was  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance.  That  doc- 
trine she  taught  without  any  qualification,  and  followed  out 
to  all  its  extreme  consequences.  Her  disciples  were  never 
weary  of  repeating  that  in  no  conceivable  case,  not  even  if 
England  were  cursed  with  a  king  resembling  Busiris  or  Pha- 
laris,  with  a  king  who,  in  defiance  of  law,  and  without  the  pre- 
tence of  justice,  should  daily  doom  hundreds  of  innocent  vic- 
tims to  torture  and  d,eath,  would  all  the  estates  of  the  realm 
united  be  justified  in  withstanding  his  tyranny  by  physical 
force.  Happily  the  principles  of  human  nature  afford  abun- 
dant security  that  such  theories  will  never  be  more  than  the- 
ories. The  day  of  trial  came;  and  the  very  men  who  had 
most  loudly  and  most  sincerely  professed  this  extravagant  loy- 
alty were,  in  every  county  of  England,  arrayed  in  arms  against 
the  throne. 

Property  all  over  the  kingdom  was  now  again  changing 
hands.  The  national  sales,  not  having  been  confirmed  by 
act  of  parliament,  were  regarded  by  the  tribunals  as  nullities. 
The  bishops,  the  deans,  the  chapters,  the  Royalist  nobility  and 
gentry,  re-entered  on  their  confiscated  estates,  and  ejected  even 
purchasers  who  had  given  fair  prices.  The  losses  which  the 
Cavaliers  had  sustained  during  the  ascendency  of  their  oppo- 
nents were  thus  in  part  repaired ;  but  in  part  only.  All  ac- 


172  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

tions  for  mesne  profits  were  effectually  barred  by  the  general 
amnesty ;  and  the  numerous  Royalists,  who,  in  order  to  dis- 
charge fines  imposed  by  the  Long  Parliament,  or  in  order  to 
purchase  the  favor  of  powerful  Roundheads,  had  sold  lands 
for  much  less  than  the  real  value,  were  not  relieved  from  the 
legal  consequences  of  their  own  acts. 

While  these  changes  were  in  progress,  a  change  still  more 
important  took  place  in  the  morals  and  manners  of  the  com- 
munity.    Those  passions  and  tastes  which,  under 

Change  in  the  ,         /.    i       -r->       • 

morals  of  the  the  rule  of  the  Puritans,  had  been  sternly  repressed, 
and,  if  gratified  at  all,  had  been  gratified  by  stealth, 
broke  forth  with  ungovernable  violence  as  soon  as  the  check 
was  withdrawn.  Men  flew  to  frivolous  amusements  and  to 
criminal  pleasures  with  the  greediness  which  long  and  en- 
forced abstinence  naturally  produces.  Little  restraint  was 
imposed  by  public  opinion.  For  the  nation,  nauseated  with 
cant,  suspicious  of  all  pretensions  to  sanctity,  and  still  smart- 
ing from  the  recent  tyranny  of  rulers  austere  in  life  and  pow- 
erful in  prayer,  looked  for  a  time  with  complacency  on  the 
softer  and  gayer  vices.  Still  less  restraint  was  imposed  by  the 
government.  Indeed  there  was  no  excess  which  was  not  en- 
couraged by  the  ostentatious  profligacy  of  the  King  and  of  his 
favorite  courtiers.  A  few  counsellors  of  Charles  the  First,  who 
were  now  no  longer  young,  retained  the  decorous  gravity  which 
had  been  thirty  years  before  in  fashion  at  Whitehall.  Such 
were  Clarendon  himself,  and  his  friends,  Thomas  Wriothes- 
ley,  Earl  of  Southampton,  Lord  Treasurer,  and  James  But- 
ler, Duke  of  Ormond,  who,  having  through  many  vicissitudes 
struggled  gallantly  for  the  royal  cause  in  Ireland,  now  govern- 
ed that  kingdom  as  Lord-lieutenant.  But  neither  the  memo- 
ry of  the  services  of  these  men,  nor  their  great  power  in  the 
state,  could  protect  them  from  the  sarcasms  which  modish  vice 
loves  to  dart  at  obsolete  virtue.  The  praise  of  politeness 
and  vivacity  could  now  scarcely  be  obtained  except  by  some 
violation  of  decorum.  Talents  great  and  various  assisted  to 
spread  the  contagion.  Ethical  philosophy  had  recently  taken 
a  form  well  suited  to  please  a  generation  equally  devoted  to 
monarchy  and  to  vice.  Thomas  Hobbes  had,  in  language  more 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  173 

precise  and  luminous  than  has  ever  been  employed  by  any 
other  metaphysical  writer,  maintained  that  the  will  of  the 
prince  was  the  standard  of  right  and  wrong,  and  that  every 
subject  ought  to  be  ready  to  profess  Popery,  Mohammedan- 
ism, or  Paganism,  at  the  royal  command.  Thousands  who 
were  incompetent  to  appreciate  what  was  really  valuable  in 
his  speculations,  eagerly  welcomed  a  theory  which,  while  it 
exalted  the  kingly  office,  relaxed  the  obligations  of  morality, 
and  degraded  religion  into  a  mere  affair  of  state.  Hobbism 
soon  became  an  almost  essential  part  of  the  character  of  the 
tine  gentleman.  All  the  lighter  kinds  of  literature  were  deep- 
ly tainted  by  the  prevailing  licentiousness.  Poetry  stooped 
to  be  the  pander  of  every  low  desire.  Ridicule,  instead  of 
putting  guilt  and  error  to  the  blush,  turned  her  formidable 
shafts  against  innocence  and  truth.  The  restored  Church 
contended  indeed  against  the  prevailing  immorality,  but  con- 
tended feebly,  and  with  half  a  heart.  It  was  necessary  to  the 
decorum  of  her  character  that  she  should  admonish  her  err- 
ing children ;  but  her  admonitions  were  given  in  a  somewhat 
perfunctory  manner.  Her  attention  was  elsewhere  engaged. 
Her  whole  soul  was  in  the  work  of  crushing  the  Puritans,  and 
of  teaching  her  disciples  to  give  unto  Caesar  the  things  which 
were  Caesar's.  She  had  been  pillaged  and  oppressed  by  the 
party  which  preached  an  austere  morality.  She  had  been  re- 
stored to  opulence  and  honor  by  libertines.  Little  as  the  men 
of  mirth  and  fashion  were  disposed  to  shape  their  lives  accord- 
ing to  her  precepts,  they  were  yet  ready  to  fight  knee-deep  in 
blood  for  her  cathedrals  and  palaces,  for  every  line  of  her  ru- 
bric and  every  thread  of  her  vestments.  If  the  debauched 
Cavalier  haunted  brothels  and  gambling -houses,  he  at  least 
avoided  conventicles.  If  he  never  spoke  without  uttering 
ribaldry  and  blasphemy,  he  made  some  amends  by  his  eager- 
ness to  send  Baxter  and  Howe  to  jail  for  preaching  and  pray- 
ing. Thus  the  clergy,  for  a  time,  made  war  on  schism  with 
so  much  vigor  that  they  had  little  leisure  to  make  war  on 
vice.  The  ribaldry  of  Etherege  and  Wycherley  was,  in  the 
presence  and  under  the  special  sanction  of  the  head  of  the 
Church,  publicly  recited  by  female  lips  in  female  ears,  while 


174:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

the  author  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  languished  in  a  dungeon 
for  the  crime  of  proclaiming  the  Gospel  to  the  poor.  It  is  an 
unquestionable  and  a  most  instructive  fact  that  the  years  dur- 
ing which  the  political  power  of  the  Anglican  hierarchy  was 
in  the  zenith  were  precisely  the  years  during  which  national 
virtue  was  at  the  lowest  point. 

Scarcely  any  rank  or  profession  escaped  the  infection  of 
the  prevailing  immorality ;  but  those  persons  who  made  pol- 
rrofligacyof  ^cs  their  business  were  perhaps  the  most  corrupt 
politicians.  parf.  Q.f  £jie  comipt  society.  For  they  were  ex- 
posed, not  only  to  the  same  noxious  influences  which  affected 
the  nation  generally,  but  also  to  a  taint  of  a  peculiar  and  of 
a  most  malignant  kind.  Their  character  had  been  formed 
amidst  frequent  and  violent  revolutions  and  counter-revolu- 
tions. In  the  course  of  a  few  years  they  had  seen  the  eccle- 
siastical and  civil  polity  of  their  country  repeatedly  changed. 
They  had  seen  an  Episcopal  Church  persecuting  Puritans,  a 
Puritan  Church  persecuting  Episcopalians,  and  an  Episcopal 
Church  persecuting  Puritans  again.  They  had  seen  heredi- 
tary monarchy  abolished  and  restored.  They  had  seen  the 
Long  Parliament  thrice  supreme  in  the  state,  and  thrice  dis- 
solved amidst  the  curses  and  laughter  of  millions.  They  had 
seen  a  new  dynasty  rapidly  rising  to  the  height  of  power  and 
glory,  and  then  on  a  sudden  hurled  down  from  the  chair  of 
state  without  a  struggle.  They  had  seen  a  new  representa- 
tive system  devised,  tried,  and  abandoned.  They  had  seen  a 
new  House  of  Lords  created  and  scattered.  They  had  seen 
great  masses  of  property  violently  transferred  from  Cava- 
liers to  Roundheads,  and  from  Roundheads  back  to  Cavaliers. 
During  these  events  no  man  could  be  a  stirring  and  thriving 
politician  who  was  not  prepared  to  change  with  every  change 
of  fortune.  It  was  only  in  retirement  that  any  person  could 
long  keep  the  character  either  of  a  steady  Royalist  or  of  a 
steady  Republican.  One  who,  in  such  an  age,  is  determined 
to  attain  civil  greatness  must  renounce  all  thought  of  consist- 
ency. Instead  of  affecting  immutability  in  the  midst  of  end- 
less mutation,  he  must  be  always  on  the  watch  for  the  indica- 
tions of  a  coming  reaction.  He  must  seize  the  exact  moment 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHAELES  THE  SECOND. 

for  deserting  a  falling  cause.  Having  gone  all  lengths  with 
a  faction  while  it  was  uppermost,  he  must  suddenly  extricate 
himself  from  it  when  its  difficulties  begin,  must  assail  it,  must 
persecute  it,  must  enter  on  a  new  career  of  power  and  pros- 
perity in  company  with  new  associates.  His  situation  natu- 
rally develops  in  him  to  the  highest  degree  a  peculiar  class  of 
abilities  and  a  peculiar  class  of  vices.  He  becomes  quick  of 
observation  and  fertile  of  resource.  He  catches  without  ef- 
fort the  tone  of  any  sect  or  party  with  which  he  chances  to 
mingle.  He  discerns  the  signs  of  the  times  with  a  sagacity 
which  to  the  multitude  appears  miraculous,  with  a  sagacity 
resembling  that  with  which  a  veteran  police-officer  pursues 
the  faintest  indications  of  crime,  or  with  which  a  Mohawk 
warrior  follows  a  track  through  the  woods.  But  we  shall  sel- 
dom find,  in  a  statesman  so  trained,  integrity,  constancy,  any 
of  the  virtues  of  the  noble  family  of  Truth.  He  has  no  faith 
in  any  doctrine,  no  zeal  for  any  cause.  He  has  seen  so  many 
old  institutions  swept  away,  that  he  has  no  reverence  for  pre- 
scription. He  has  seen  so  many  new  institutions,  from  which 
much  had  been  expected,  produce  mere  disappointment,  that 
he  has  no  hope  of  improvement.  He  sneers  alike  at  those 
who  are  anxious  to  preserve  and  at  those  who  are  eager  to  re- 
form. There  is  nothing  in  the  state  which  he  could  not,  with- 
out a  scruple  or  a  blush,  join  in  defending  or  in  destroying. 
Fidelity  to  opinions  and  to  friends  seems  to  him  mere  dulness 
and  wrong-headedness.  Politics  he  regards,  not  as  a  science 
of  which  the  object  is  the  happiness  of  mankind,  but  as  an 
exciting  game  of  mixed  chance  and  skill,  at  which  a  dexter- 
ous and  lucky  player  may  win  an  estate,  a  coronet,  perhaps  a 
crown,  and  at  which  one  rash  move  may  lead  to  the  loss  of 
fortune  and  of  life.  Ambition,  which,  in  good  times  and  in 
good  minds,  is  half  a  virtue,  now,  disjoined  from  every  ele- 
vated and  philanthropic  sentiment,  becomes  a  selfish  cupidity 
scarcely  less  ignoble  than  avarice.  Among  those  politicians 
who,  from  the  Restoration  to  the  accession  of  the  House  of 
Hanover,  were  at  the  head  of  the  great  parties  in  the  state, 
very  few  can  be  named  whose  reputation  is  not  stained  by 
what,  in  our  age,  would  be  called  gross  perfidy  and  corrup- 


170  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

tion.  It  is  scarcely  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  most  un- 
principled public  men  who  have  taken  part  in  affairs  within 
our  memory  would,  if  tried  by  the  standard  which  was  in 
fashion  during  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  de- 
serve to  be  regarded  as  scrupulous  and  disinterested. 

While  these  political,  religious,  and  moral  changes  were  tak- 
ing place  in  England,  the  royal  authority  had  been  without 
state  of  scot-  difficulty  re-established  in  every  other  part  of  the 
British  islands.  In  Scotland  the  restoration  of  the 
Stuarts  had  been  hailed  with  delight ;  for  it  was  regarded  as 
the  restoration  of  national  independence.  And  true  it  was 
that  the  yoke  which  Cromwell  had  imposed  was,  in  appear- 
ance, taken  away,  that  the  Scottish  estates  again  met  in  their 
old  hall  at  Edinburgh,  and  that  the  Senators  of  the  College  of 
Justice  again  administered  the  Scottish  law  according  to  the 
old  forms.  Yet  was  the  independence  of  the  little  kingdom 
necessarily  rather  nominal  than  real ;  for,  as  long  as  the  King 
had  England  on  his  side,  he  had  nothing  to  apprehend  from 
disaffection  in  his  other  dominions.  He  was  now  in  such  a 
situation  that  he  could  renew  the  attempt  which  had  proved 
destructive  to  his  father  without  any  danger  of  his  father's 
fate.  Charles  the  First  had  tried  to  force  his  own  religion 
by  his  regal  power  on  the  Scots  at  a  moment  when  both  his 
religion  and  his  regal  power  were  unpopular  in  England ;  and 
he  had  not  only  failed,  but  had  raised  troubles  which  had  ul- 
timately cost  him  his  crown  and  his  head.  Times  had  now 
changed :  England  was  zealous  for  monarchy  and  prelacy ; 
and  therefore  the  scheme  which  had  formerly  been  in  the 
highest  degree  imprudent  might  be  resumed  with  little  risk 
to  the  throne.  The  government  resolved  to  set  up  a  prelat- 
ical  church  in  Scotland.  The  design  was  disapproved  by  ev- 
ery Scotchman  whose  judgment  was  entitled  to  respect.  Some 
Scottish  statesmen  who  were  zealous  for  the  King's  preroga- 
tive had  been  bred  Presbyterians.  Though  little  troubled 
with  scruples,  they  retained  a  preference  for  the  religion  of 
their  childhood ;  and  they  well  knew  how  strong  a  hold  that 
religion  had  on  the  hearts  of  their  countrymen.  They  re- 
monstrated strongly :  but,  when  they  found  that  they  rernon- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  177 

strated  in  vain,  they  had  not  virtue  enough  to  persist  in  an 
opposition  which  would  have  given  offence  to  their  master ; 
and  several  of  them  stooped  to  the  wickedness  and  baseness 
of  persecuting  what  in  their  consciences  they  believed  to  be 
the  purest  form  of  Christianity.  The  Scottish  Parliament 
was  so  constituted  that  it  had  scarcely  ever  offered  any  seri- 
ous opposition  even  to  kings  much  weaker  than  Charles  then 
was.  Episcopacy,  therefore,  was  established  by  law.  As  to 
the  form  of  worship,  a  large  discretion  was  left  to  the  clergy. 
In  some  churches  the  English  Liturgy  was  used.  In  others, 
the  ministers  selected  from  that  Liturgy  such  prayers  and 
thanksgivings  as  were  likely  to  be  least  offensive  to  the  peo- 
ple. But  in  general  the  doxology  was  sung  at  the  close  of 
public  worship ;  and  the  Apostles'  Creed  was  recited  when 
baptism  was  administered.  By  the  great  body  of  the  Scot- 
tish nation  the  new  Church  was  detested  both  as  superstitious 
and  as  foreign — as  tainted  with  the  corruptions  of  Rome,  and 
as  a  mark  of  the  predominance  of  England.  There  was,  how- 
ever, no  general  insurrection.  The  country  was  not  what  it 
had  been  twenty-two  years  before.  Disastrous  war  and  alien 
domination  had  tamed  the  spirit  of  the  people.  The  aristoc- 
racy, which  was  held  in  great  honor  by  the  middle  class  and 
by  the  populace,  had  put  itself  at  the  head  of  the  movement 
against  Charles  the  First,  but  proved  obsequious  to  Charles 
the  Second.  From  the  English  Puritans  no  aid  was  now  to 
be  expected.  They  were  a  feeble  party,  proscribed  both  by 
law  and  by  public  opinion.  The  bulk  of  the  Scottish  nation, 
therefore,  sullenly  submitted,  and,  with  many  misgivings  of 
conscience,  attended  the  ministrations  of  the  Episcopal  clergy, 
or  of  Presbyterian  divines  who  had  consented  to  accept  from 
the  government  a  half  toleration,  known  by  the  name  of  the 
Indulgence.  But  there  were,  particularly  in  the  western  low- 
lands, many  h'erce  and  resolute  men,  who  held  that  the  obliga- 
tion to  observe  the  Covenant  was  paramount  to  the  obligation 
to  obey  the  magistrate.  These  people,  in  defiance  of  the  law, 
persisted  in  meeting  to  worship  God  after  their  own  fashion. 
The  Indulgence  they  regarded,  not  as  a  partial  reparation  of 
the  wrongs  inflicted  bv  the  State  on  the  Church,  but  as  a  new 
I.— 12 


178  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

wrong,  the  more  odious  because  it  was  dbguised  under  the 
appearance  of  a  benefit.  Persecution,  they  said,  could  only 
kill  the  body;  but  the  black  Indulgence  was  deadly  to  the 
soul.  Driven  from  the  towns,  they  assembled  on  heaths  and 
mountains.  Attacked  by  the  civil  power,  they,  without  scru- 
ple, repelled  force  by  force.  At  every  conventicle  they  mus- 
tered in  arms.  They  repeatedly  broke  out  into  open  rebel- 
lion. They  were  easily  defeated,  and  mercilessly  punished : 
but  neither  defeat  nor  punishment  could  subdue  their  spirit. 
Hunted  down  like  wild  beasts,  tortured  till  their  bones  were' 
beaten  flat,  imprisoned  by  hundreds,  hanged  by  scores,  ex- 
posed at  one  time  to  the  license  of  soldiers  from  England, 
abandoned  at  another  time  to  the  mercy  of  troops  of  maraud- 
ers from  the  Highlands,  they  still  stood  at  bay  in  a  mood  so 
savage  that  the  boldest  and  mightiest  oppressor  could  not  but 
dread  the  audacity  of  their  despair. 

Such  was,  during  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  the  state 
of  Scotland.  Ireland  was  not  less  distracted.  In  that  island 
state  of  ire-  existed  feuds,  compared  with  which  the  hottest  an- 
imosities of  English  politicians  were  lukewarm. 
The  enmity  between  the  Irish  Cavaliers  and  the  Irish  Round- 
heads was  almost  forgotten  in  the  fiercer  enmity  which  raged 
between  the  English  and  the  Celtic  races.  The  interval  be- 
tween the  Episcopalian  and  the  Presbyterian  seemed  to  van- 
ish, when  compared  with  the  interval  which  separated  both 
from  the  Papist.  During  the  late  civil  troubles  the  greater 
part  of  the  Irish  soil  had  been  transferred  from  the  vanquish- 
ed nation  to  the  victors.  To  the  favor  of  the  crown  few 
either  of  the  old  or  of  the  new  occupants  had  any  pretensions. 
The  despoilers  and  the  despoiled  had,  for  the  most  part,  been 
rebels  alike.  The  government  was  soon  perplexed  and  wea- 
ried by  the  conflicting  claims  and  mutual  accusations  of  the 
two  incensed  factions.  Those  colonists  among  whom  Crom- 
well had  portioned  out  the  conquered  territory,  and  whose 
descendants  are  still  called  Cromwellians,  asserted  that  the 
aboriginal  inhabitants  were  deadly  enemies  of  the  English 
nation  under  every  dynasty,  and  of  the  Protestant  religion  in 
every  form.  They  described  and  exaggerated  the  atrocities 


CH.  II.  TINDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  179 

which  had  disgraced  the  insurrection  of  Ulster :  they  urged 
the  King  to  follow  up  with  resolution  the  policy  of  the  Pro- 
tector ;  and  they  were  not  ashamed  to  hint  that  there  would 
never  be  peace  in  Ireland  till  the  old  Irish  race  should  be  ex- 
tirpated. The  Roman  Catholics  extenuated  their  offence  as 
they  best  might,  and  expatiated  in  piteous  language  on  the 
severity  of  their  punishment,  which,  in  truth,  had  not  been 
lenient.  They  implored  Charles  not  to  confound  the  inno- 
cent with  the  guilty,  and  reminded  him  that  many  of  the 
guilty  had  atoned  for  their  fault  by  returning  to  their  alle- 
giance, and  by  defending  his  rights  against  the  murderers  of 
his  father.  The  court,  sick  of  the  importunities  of  two  par- 
ties, neither  of  which  it  had  any  reason  to  love,  at  length 
relieved  itself  from  trouble  by  dictating  a  compromise.  That 
system,  cruel,  but  most  complete  and  energetic,  by  which 
Oliver  had  proposed  to  make  the  island  thoroughly  English, 
was  abandoned.  The  Cromwellians  were  induced  to  relin- 
quish a  third  part  of  their  acquisitions.  The  land  thus  sur- 
rendered was  capriciously  divided  among  claimants  whom  the 
government  chose  to  favor.  But  great  numbers  who  protested 
that  they  were  innocent  of  all  disloyalty,  and  some  persons 
who  boasted  that  their  loyalty  had  been  signally  displayed, 
obtained  neither  restitution  nor  compensation,*  and  filled 
France  and  Spain  with  outcries  against  the  injustice  and  in- 
gratitude of  the  House  of  Stuart. 

Meantime  the  government  had,  even  in  England,  ceased  to 
be  popular.  The  Royalists  had  begun  to  quarrel  with  the 
The  govern-  court  and  with  each  other;  and  the  party  which 
unpop^lirin3  na(^  been  vanquished,  trampled  down,  and,  as  it 
seemed,  annihilated,  but  which  had  still  retained  a 
strong  principle  of  life,  again  raised  its  head,  and  renewed 
the  interminable  war. 

Had  the  administration  been  faultless,  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  the  return  of  the  King  and  the  termination  of  the  mil- 
itary tyranny  had  been  hailed  could  not  have  been  permanent. 
For  it  is  the  law  of  our  nature  that  such  fits  of  excitement 
shall  always  be  followed  by  remissions.  The  manner  in  which 
the  court  abused  its  victory  made  the  remission  speedy  and 


180  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  OH.  II. 

complete.  Every  moderate  man  was  shocked  by  the  insolence, 
cruelty,  and  perfidy  with  which  the  Non  -  conformists  were 
treated.  The  penal  laws  had  effectually  purged  the  oppressed 
party  of  those  insincere  members  whose  vices  had  disgraced 
it,  and  had  made  it  again  an  honest  and  pious  body  of  men. 
The  Puritan,  a  conqueror,  a  ruler,  a  persecutor,  a  sequestrator, 
had  been  detested.  The  Puritan,  betrayed  and  evil  entreated, 
deserted  by  all  the  time-servers  who,  in  his  prosperity,  had 
claimed  brotherhood  with  him,  hunted  from  his  home,  forbid- 
den under  severe  penalties  to  pray  or  receive  the  sacrament 
according  to  his  conscience,  yet  still  firm  in  his  resolution  to 
obey  God  rather  than  man,  was,  in  spite  of  some  unpleasing 
recollections,  an  object  of  pity  and  respect  to  well-constituted 
minds.  These  feelings  became  stronger  when  it  was  noised 
abroad  that  the  court  was  not  disposed  to  treat  Papists  with  the 
same  rigor  which  had  been  shown  to  Presbyterians.  A  vague 
suspicion  that  the  King  and  the  duke  were  not  sincere  Prot- 
estants sprang  up  and  gathered  strength.  Many  persons  too 
who  had  been  disgusted  by  the  austerity  and  hypocrisy  of  the 
Saints  of  the  Commonwealth  began  to  be  still  more  disgusted 
by  the  open  profligacy  of  the  court  and  of  the  Cavaliers,  and 
were  disposed  to  doubt  whether  the  sullen  preciseness  of  Praise 
God  Barebone  might  not  be  preferable  to  the  outrageous  pro- 
faneness  and  licentiousness  of  the  Buckinghams  and  Sedleys. 
Even  immoral  men,  who  were  not  utterly  destitute  of  sense 
and  public  spirit,  complained  that  the  government  treated  the 
most  serious  matters  as  trifles,  and  made  trifles  its  serious  busi- 
ness. A  king  might  be  pardoned  for  amusing  his  leisure 
with  wine,  wit,  and  beauty.  But  it  was  intolerable  that  he 
should  sink  into  a  mere  lounger  and  voluptuary,  that  the 
gravest  affairs  of  state  should  be  neglected,  and  that  the  pub- 
lic service  should  be  starved  and  the  finances  deranged  in 
order  that  harlots  and  parasites  might  grow  rich. 

A  large  body  of  Royalists  joined  in  these  complaints,  and 
added  many  sharp  reflections  on  the  King's  ingratitude.  His 
whole  revenue,  indeed,  would  not  have  sufficed  to  reward  them 
all  in  proportion  to  their  own  consciousness  of  desert.  For 
to  every  distressed  gentleman  who  had  fought  under  Rupert 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  181 

or  Derby  his  own  services  seemed  eminently  meritorious,  and 
his  own  sufferings  eminently  severe.  Every  one  had  flatter- 
ed himself  that,  whatever  became  of  the  rest,  he  should  be 
largely  recompensed  for  all  that  he  had  lost  during  the  civil 
troubles,  and  that  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy  would  be 
followed  by  the  restoration  of  his  own  dilapidated  fortunes. 
None  of  these  expectants  could  restrain  his  indignation  when 
he  found  that  he  was  as  poor  under  the  King  as  he  had  been 
under  the  Rump  or  the  Protector.  The  negligence  and  ex- 
travagance of  the  court  excited  the  bitter  indignation  of  these 
loyal  veterans.  They  justly  said  that  one  half  of  what  His 
Majesty  squandered  on  concubines  and  buffoons  would  glad- 
den the  hearts  of  hundreds  of  old  Cavaliers  who,  after  cutting 
down  their  oaks  .and  melting  their  plate  to  help  his  father, 
now  wandered  about  in  threadbare  suits,  and  did  not  know 
where  to  turn  for  a  meal. 

At  the  same  time  a  sudden  fall  of  rents  took  place.  The 
income  of  every  landed  proprietor  was  diminished  by  five 
shillings  in  the  pound.  The  cry  of  agricultural  distress  rose 
from  every  shire  in  the  kingdom ;  and  for  that  distress  the 
government  was,  as  usual,  held  accountable.  The  gentry,  com- 
pelled to  retrench  their  expenses  for  a  period,  saw  with  indig- 
nation the  increasing  splendor  and  profusion  of  Whitehall, 
and  were  immovably  fixed  in  the  belief  that  the  money  which 
ought  to  have  supported  their  households  had,  by  some  inex- 
plicable process,  gone  to  the  favorites  of  the  King. 

The  minds  of  men  were  now  in  such  a  temper  that  every 
public  act  excited  discontent.  Charles  had  taken  to  wife 
Catharine,  Princess  of  Portugal.  The  marriage  was  general- 
ly disliked ;  and  the  murmurs  became  loud  when  it  appeared 
that  the  King  was  not  likely  to  have  any  legitimate  posteri- 
ty. Dunkirk,  won  by  Oliver  from  Spain,  was  sold  to  Lewis 
the  Fourteenth,  King  of  France.  This  bargain  excited  gen- 
eral indignation.  Englishmen  were  already  beginning  to  ob- 
serve with  uneasiness  the  progress  of  the  French  power,  and 
to  regard  the  House  of  Bourbon  with  the  same  feeling  with 
which  their  grandfathers  had  regarded  the  House  of  Austria. 
Was  it  wise,  men  asked,  at  such  a  time  to  make  any  addition 


182  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

to  the  strength  of  a  monarchy  already  too  formidable  ?  Dun- 
kirk was,  moreover,  prized  by  the  people,  not  merely  as  a  place 
of  arms,  and  as  a  key  to  the  Low  Countries,  but  also  as  a  tro- 
phy of  English  valor.  It  was  to  the  subjects  of  Charles  what 
Calais  had  been  to  an  earlier  generation,  and  what  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar,  so  manfully  defended,  through  disastrous  and  peril- 
ous years,  against  the  fleets  and  armies  of  a  mighty  coalition, 
is  to  ourselves.  The  plea  of  economy  might  have  had  some 
weight  if  it  had  been  urged  by  an  economical  government. 
But  it  was  notorious  that  the  charges  of  Dunkirk  fell  far 
short  of  the  sums  which  were  wasted  at  court  in  vice  and  fol- 
ly. It  seemed  insupportable  that  a  sovereign,  profuse  beyond 
example  in  all  that  regarded  his  own  pleasures,  should  be  nig- 
gardly in  all  that  regarded  the  safety  and  honor  of  the  state. 

The  public  discontent  was  heightened,  when  it  was  found 
that,  while  Dunkirk  was  abandoned  on  the  plea  of  economy, 
the  fortress  of  Tangier,  which  was  part  of  the  dower  of  Queen 
Catharine,  was  repaired  and  kept  up  at  an  enormous  charge. 
That  place  was  associated  with  no  recollections  gratifying  to 
the  national  pride ;  it  could  in  no  way  promote  the  national 
interests ;  it  involved  us  in  inglorious,  unprofitable,  and  inter- 
minable wars  with  tribes  of  half  savage  Mussulmans;  and  it 
was  situated  in  a  climate  singularly  unfavorable  to  the  health 
and  vigor  of  the  English  race. 

But  the  murmurs  excited  by  these  errors  were  faint  when 
compared  with  the  clamors  which  soon  broke  forth.  The  gov- 
war  with  the  eminent  engaged  in  war  with  the  United  Prov- 
Dutch.  inces.  The  House  of  Commons  readily  voted  sums 

unexampled  in  our  history,  sums  exceeding  those  which  had 
supported  the  fleets  and  armies  of  Cromwell  at  the  time  when 
his  power  was  the  terror  of  all  the  world.  But  such  was  the 
extravagance,  dishonesty,  and  incapacity  of  those  who  had  suc- 
ceeded to  his  authority,  that  this  liberality  proved  worse  than 
useless.  The  sycophants  of  the  court,  ill  qualified  to  contend 
against  the  great  men  who  then  directed  the  arms  of  Holland, 
against  such  a  statesman  as  De  "Witt  and  such  a  commander 
as  De  Euyter,  made  fortunes  rapidly,  while  the  sailors  muti- 
nied from  very  hunger,  while  the  dock-yards  were  unguarded, 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  183 

while  the  ships  were  leaky  and  without  rigging.  It  was  at 
length  determined  to  abandon  all  schemes  of  offensive  war; 
and  it  soon  appeared  that  even  a  defensive  war  was  a  task  too 
hard  for  that  administration.  The  Dutch  fleet  sailed  up  the 
Thames,  and  burned  the  ships  of  war  which  lay  at  Chatham. 
It  was  said  that,  on  the  very  day  of  that  great  humiliation, 
the  King  feasted  with  the  ladies  of  his  seraglio,  and  amused 
himself  with  hunting  a  moth  about  the  supper-room.  Then, 
at  length,  tardy  justice  was  done  to  the  memory  of  Oliver. 
Everywhere  men  magnified  his  valor,  genius,  and  patriotism. 
Everywhere  it  was  remembered  how,  when  he  ruled,  all  for- 
eign powers  had  trembled  at  the  name  of  England ;  how  the 
States-general,  now  so  haughty,  had  crouched  at  his  feet ;  and 
how,  when  it  was  known  that  he  was  no  more,  Amsterdam 
was  lighted  up  as  for  a  great  deliverance,  and  children  ran 
along  the  canals,  shouting  for  joy  that  the  Devil  was  dead. 
Even  Royalists  exclaimed  that  the  state  could  be  saved  only 
by  calling  the  old  soldiers  of  the  Commonwealth  to  arms. 
Soon  the  capital  began  to  feel  the  miseries  of  a  blockade. 
Fuel  was  scarcely  to  be  procured.  Tilbury  Fort,  the  place 
where  Elizabeth  had,  with  manly  spirit,  hurled  foul  scorn  at 
Parma  and  Spain,  was  insulted  by  the  invaders.  The  roar  of 
foreign  guns  was  heard,  for  the  first  and  last  time,  by  the  cit- 
izens of  London.  In  the  Council  it  was  seriously  proposed 
that,  if  the  enemy  advanced,  the  Tower  should  be  abandoned. 
Great  multitudes  of  people  assembled  in  the  streets  crying 
out  that  England  was  bought  and  sold.  The  houses  and  car- 
riages of  the  ministers  wrere  attacked  by  the  populace ;  and  it 
seemed  likely  that  the  government  would  have  to  deal  at  once 
with  an  invasion  and  with  an  insurrection.  The  extreme  dan- 
ger, it  is  true,  soon  passed  by.  A  treaty  was  concluded,  very 
different  from  the  treaties  which  Oliver  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  signing ;  and  the  nation  was  once  more  at  peace,  but  was 
in  a  mood  scarcely  less  fierce  and  sullen  than  in  the  days  of 
ship-money. 

The  discontent  engendered  by  maladministration  was 
heightened  by  calamities  which  the  best  administration  could 
not  have  averted.  While  the  ignominious  war  with  Holland 


184  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

was  raging,  London  suffered  two  great  disasters,  such  as  nev- 
er, in  so  short  a  space  of  time,  befell  one  city.  A  pestilence, 
surpassing  in  horror  any  that  during  three  centuries  had  vis- 
ited the  island,  swept  away,  in  six  months,  more  than  a  hun- 
dred thousand  human  beings.  And  scarcely  had  the  dead- 
cart  ceased  to  go  its  rounds,  when  a  fire,  such  as  had  not  been 
known  in  Europe  since  the  conflagration  of  Rome  under  Nero, 
laid  in  ruins  the  whole  city,  from  the  Tower  to  the  Temple, 
and  from  the  river  to  the  purlieus  of  Smithh'eld. 

Had  there  been  a  general  election  while  the  nation  was 
smarting  under  so  many  disgraces  and  misfortunes,  it  is  prob- 
able that  the  Roundheads  would  have  regained  as- 

Opposition  in  .  c 

the  House  of    cendencv  in  the  state.      -But  the  .Parliament  was 

Commons.  •«     i        «         T         T-»T  i  •         i 

still  the  Cavalier  Parliament,  chosen  m  the  trans- 
port of  loyalty  which  had  followed  the  Restoration.  Never- 
theless it  soon  became  evident  that  no  English  legislature, 
however  loyal,  would  now  consent  to  be  merely  what  the  leg- 
islature had  been  under  the  Tudors.  From  the  death  of  Eliz- 
abeth to  the  eve  of  the  civil  war,  the  Puritans,  who  predom- 
inated in  the  representative  body,  had  been  constantly,  by  a 
dexterous  use  of  the  power  of  the  purse,  encroaching  on  the 
province  of  the  executive  government.  The  gentlemen  who, 
after  the  Restoration,  filled  the  Lower  House,  though  they 
abhorred  the  Puritan  name,  were  well  pleased  to  inherit  the 
fruit  of  the  Puritan  policy.  They  were  indeed  most  willing 
to  employ  the  power  which  they  possessed  in  the  state  for  the 
purpose  of  making  their  king  mighty  and  honored,  both  at 
home  and  abroad  ;  but  with  the  power  itself  they  were  re- 
solved not  to  part.  The  great  English  revolution  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  that  is  to  say,  the  transfer  of  the  supreme 
control  of  the  executive  administration  from  the  crown  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  was,  through  the  whole  long  existence 
of  this  Parliament,  proceeding  noiselessly,  but  rapidly  and 
steadily.  Charles,  kept  poor  by  his  follies  and  vices,  wanted 
money.  The  Commons  alone  could  legally  grant  him  money. 
They  could  not  be  prevented  from  putting  their  own  price 
on  their  grants.  The  price  which  they  put  on  their  grants 
was  this,  that  they  should  be  allowed  to  interfere  witji  every 


CH.  II.  UNDER   CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  185 

one  of  the  King's  prerogatives,  to  wring  from  him  his  consent 
to  laws  which  he  disliked,  to  break  up  cabinets,  to  dictate  the 
course  of  foreign  policy,  and  even  to  direct  the  administration 
of  war.  To  the  royal  office,  and  the  royal  person,  they  loud- 
ly and  sincerely  professed  the  strongest  attachment.  But  to 
Clarendon  they  owed  no  allegiance ;  and  they  fell  on  him  as 
Fan  of  ciaren-  furiously  as  their  predecessors  had  fallen  on  Straf- 
ford.  The  minister's  virtues  and  vices  alike  con- 
tributed to  his  ruin.  He  was  the  ostensible  head  of  the  ad- 
ministration, and  was  therefore  held  responsible  even  for 
those  acts  which  he  had  strongly,  but  vainly,  opposed  in 
Council.  He  was  regarded  by  the  Puritans,  and  by  all  who 
pitied  them,  as  an  implacable  bigot,  a  second  Laud,  -with  much 
more  than  Laud's  understanding.  He  had  on  all  occasions 
maintained  that  the  Act  of  Indemnity  ought  to  be  strictly 
observed ;  and  this  part  of  his  conduct,  though  highly  hon- 
orable to  him,  made  him  hateful  to  all  those  Royalists  who 
wished  to  repair  their  ruined  fortunes  by  suing  the  Round- 
heads for  damages  and  mesne  profits.  The  Presbyterians  of 
Scotland  attributed  to  him  the  downfall  of  their  Church. 
The  Papists  of  Ireland  attributed  to  him  the  loss  of  their 
lands.  As  father  of  the  Duchess  of  York,  he  had  an  obvious 
motive  for  wishing  that  there  might  be  a  barren  queen ;  and 
he  was  therefore  suspected  of  having  purposely  recommended 
one.  The  sale  of  Dunkirk  was  justly  imputed  to  him.  For 
the  war  with  Holland,  he  was,  with  less  justice,  held  account- 
able. His  hot  temper,  his  arrogant  deportment,  the  indeli- 
cate eagerness  with  which  he  grasped  at  riches,  the  ostenta- 
tion with  which  he  squandered  them,  his  picture-gallery, 
filled  with  masterpieces  of  Vandyke  which  had  once  been  the 
property  of  ruined  Cavaliers,  his  palace,  which  reared  its  long 
and  stately  front  right  opposite  to  the  humbler  residence  of 
our  kings,  drew  on  him  much  deserved,  and  some  undeserved, 
censure.  When  the  Dutch  fleet  was  in  the  Thames,  it  was 
against  the  Chancellor  that  the  rage  of  the  populace  was 
chiefly  directed.  His  windows  were  broken  ;  the  trees  of  his 
garden  were  cut  down  ;  and  a  gibbet  was  set  up  before  his 
door.  But  nowhere  was  he  more  detested  than  in  the  House 


186  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

of  Commons.  He  was  unable  to  perceive  that  the  time  was 
fast  approaching  when  that  House,  if  it  continued  to  exist  at 
all,  must  be  supreme  in  the  state,  when  the  management  of 
that  House  would  be  the  most  important  department  of  pol- 
itics, and  when,  without  the  help  of  men  possessing  the  ear  of 
that  House,  it  would  be  impossible  to  carry  on  the  govern- 
ment. He  obstinately  persisted  in  considering  the  Parlia- 
ment as  a  body  in  no  respect  differing  from  the  Parliament 
which  had  been  sitting  when,  forty  years  before,  he  first  began 
to  study  law  at  the  Temple.  He  did  not  wish  to  deprive  the 
legislature  of  those  powers  which  were  inherent  in  it  by  the 
old  constitution  of  the  realm ;  but  the  new  development  of 
those  powers,  though  a  development  natural,  inevitable,  and 
to  be  prevented  only  by  utterly  destroying  the  powers  them- 
selves, disgusted  and  alarmed  him.  Nothing  would  have  in- 
duced him  to  put  the  great  seal  to  a  wrrit  for  raising  ship- 
money,  or  to  give  his  voice  in  council  for  committing  a  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament  to  the  Tower,  on  account  of  words  spo- 
ken in  debate :  but,  when  the  Commons  began  to  inquire  in 
what  manner  the  money  voted  for  the  war  had  been  wasted 
and  to  examine  into  the  maladministration  of  the  navy,  he 
flamed  with  indignation.  Such  inquiry,  according  to  him, 
was  out  of  their  province.  He  admitted  that  the  House  was 
a  most  loyal  assembly,  that  it  had  done  good  service  to  the 
crown,  and  that  its  intentions  were  excellent.  But,  both  in 
public  and  in  the  closet,  he,  on  every  occasion,  expressed  his 
concern  that  gentlemen  so  sincerely  attached  to  monarchy 
should  unadvisedly  encroach  on  the  prerogative  of  the  mon- 
arch. Widely  as  they  differed  in  spirit  from  the  members 
of  the  Long  Parliament,  they  yet,  he  said,  imitated  that  Par- 
liament in  meddling  with  matters  which  lay  beyond  the 
sphere  of  the  estates  of  the  realm,  and  wThich  were  subject  to 
the  authority  of  the  crown  alone.  The  country,  he  main- 
tained, would  never  be  well  governed  till  the  knights  of 
shires  and  the  burgesses  were  content  to  be  what  their  prede- 
cessors had  been  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth.  All  the  plans 
which  men  more  observant  than  himself  of  the  signs  of  that 
time  proposed,  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  a  good  under- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  187 

standing  between  the  court  and  the  Commons,  he  disdain- 
fully rejected  as  crude  projects,  inconsistent  with  the  old  pol- 
ity of  England.  Toward  the  young  orators,  who  were  rising 
to  distinction  and  authority  in  the  Lower  House,  his  deport- 
ment was  ungracious ;  and  he  succeeded  in  making  them, 
with  scarcely  an  exception,  his  deadly  enemies.  Indeed,  one 
of  his  most  serious  faults  was  an  inordinate  contempt  for 
youth :  and  this  contempt  was  the  more  unjustifiable,  because 
his  own  experience  in  English  politics  was  by  no  means  pro- 
portionate to  his  age.  For  so  great  a  part  of  his  life  had  been 
passed  abroad  that  he  knew  less  of  that  world  in  which  he  found 
himself  on  his  return  than  many  who  might  have  been  his  sons. 
For  these  reasons  he  was  disliked  by  the  Commons.  For 
very  different  reasons  he  was  equally  disliked  by  the  court. 
His  morals  as  well  as  his  politics  were  those  of  an  earlier  gen- 
eration. Even  when  he  was  a  young  law  student,  living  much 
with  men  of  wit  and  pleasure,  his  natural  gravity  and  his  re- 
ligious principles  had  to  a  great  extent  preserved  him  from 
the  contagion  of  fashionable  debauchery ;  and  he  wras  by  no 
means  likely,  in  advanced  years  and  in  declining  health,  to 
turn  libertine.  On  the  vices  of  the  young  and  gay  he  looked 
with  an  aversion  almost  as  bitter  and  contemptuous  as  that 
which  he  felt  for  the  theological  errors  of  the  sectaries.  He 
missed  no  opportunity  of  showing  his  scorn  of  the  mimics, 
revellers,  and  courtesans  who  crowded  the  palace  ;  and  the 
admonitions  which  he  addressed  to  the  King  himself  were 
very  sharp,  and,  what  Charles  disliked  still  more,  very  long. 
Scarcely  any  voice  was  raised  in  favor  of  a  minister  loaded 
with  the  double  odium  of  faults  which  roused  the  fury  of  the 
people,  and  of  virtues  which  annoyed  and  importuned  the 
sovereign.  Southampton  was  no  more.  Ormond  performed 
the  duties  of  friendship  manfully  and  faithfully,  but  in  vain. 
The  Chancellor  fell  with  a  great  ruin.  The  seal  was  taken 
from  him :  the  Commons  impeached  him :  his  head  was  not 
safe :  he  fled  from  the  country  :  an  act  was  passed  which 
doomed  him  to  perpetual  exile ;  and  those  who  had  assailed 
and  undermined  him  began  to  struggle  for  the  fragments  of 
his  power. 


188  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

The  sacrifice  of  Clarendon  in  some  degree  took  off  the 
edge  of  the  public  appetite  for  revenge.  Yet  was  the  anger 
excited  by  the  profusion  and  negligence  of  the  government, 
and  by  the  miscarriages  of  the  late  war,  by  no  means  extin- 
guished. The  counsellors  of  Charles,  with  the  fate  of  the 
Chancellor  before  their  eyes,  were  anxious  for  their  own  safe- 
ty. They  accordingly  advised  their  master  to  soothe  the  irri- 
tation which  prevailed  both  in  the  Parliament  and  through- 
out the  country,  and  for  that  end,  to  take  a  step  which  has  no 
parallel  in  the  history  of  the  House  of  Stuart,  and  which  was 
worthy  of  the  prudence  and  magnanimity  of  Oliver. 

We  have  now  reached  a  point  at  which  the  history  of  the 
state  of  Euro-  great  English  revolution  begins  to  be  complicated 
Mdl^enden-  with  the  history  of  foreign  politics.  The  power 
cy  of  trance.  o£  gpa{n  had,  during  many  years,  been  declining. 
She  still,  it  is  true,  held  in  Europe  the  Milanese  and  the  Two 
Sicilies,  Belgium,  and  Tranche  Comte.  In  America  her  do- 
minions still  spread,  on  both  sides  of  the  equator,  far  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  torrid  zone.  But  this  great  body  had  been 
smitten  with  palsy,  and  was  not  only  incapable  of  giving  mol- 
estation to  other  states,  but  could  not,  without  assistance,  repel 
aggression.  France  was  now,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  greatest 
power  in  Europe.  Her  resources  have,  since  those  days,  ab- 
solutely increased,  but  have  not  increased  so  fast  as  the  re- 
sources of  England.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that,  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  years  ago,  the  empire  of  Russia,  now  a  mon- 
archy of  the  first  class,  was  as  entirely  out  of  the  system  of 
European  politics  as  Abyssinia  or  Siam,  that  the  House  of 
Brandenburg  was  then  hardly  more  powerful  than  the  House 
of  Saxony,  and  that  the  republic  of  the  United  States  had  not 
then  begun  to  exist.  The  weight  of  France,  therefore,  though 
still  very  considerable,  has  relatively  diminished.  Her  terri- 
tory was  not  in  the  days  of  Lewis  the  Fourteenth  quite  so  ex- 
tensive as  at  present :  but  it  was  large,  compact,  fertile,  well 
placed  both  for  attack  and  for  defence,  situated  in  a  happy 
climate,  and  inhabited  by  a  brave,  active,  and  ingenious  peo- 
ple. The  state  implicitly  obeyed  the  direction  of  a  single 
mind.  The  great  fiefs  which,  three  hundred  years  before, 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  189 

had  been,  in  all  but  name,  independent  principalities,  had 
been  annexed  to  the  crown.  Only  a  few  old  men  could  re- 
member the  last  meeting  of  the  States-general.  The  resist- 
ance which  the  Huguenots,  the  nobles,  and  the  parliaments 
had  offered  to  the  kingly  power,  had  been  put  down  by  the 
two  great  cardinals  who  had  ruled  the  nation  during  forty 
years.  The  government  was  now  a  despotism,  but,  at  least  in 
its  dealings  with  the  upper  classes,  a  mild  and  generous  des- 
potism, tempered  by  courteous  manners  and  chivalrous  senti- 
ments. The  means  at  the  disposal  of  the  sovereign  were,  for 
that  age,  truly  formidable.  His  revenue,  raised,  it  is  true,  by 
a  severe  and  unequal  taxation  which  pressed  heavily  on  the 
cultivators  of  the  soil,  far  exceeded  that  of  any  other  poten- 
tate. His  army,  excellently  disciplined,  and  commanded  by 
the  greatest  generals  then  living,  already  consisted  of  more 
than  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  men.  Such  an  array  of 
regular  troops  had  not  been  seen  in  Europe  since  the  down- 
fall of  the  Roman  empire.  Of  maritime  powers  France  was 
not  the  first.  But,  though  she  had  rivals  on  the  sea,  she  had 
not  yet  a  superior.  Such  was  her  strength  during  the  last 
forty  years  of  the  seventeenth  century,  that  no  enemy  could 
singly  withstand  her,  and  that  two  great  coalitions,  in  which 
half  Christendom  was  united  against  her,  failed  of  success. 

The  personal  qualities  of  the  French  King  added  to  the 
respect  inspired  by  the  power  and  importance  of  his  king- 
character  of  dom.  No  sovereign  has  ever  represented  the  maj- 
Lewis  xiv.  egf.y  Q£  a  great  state  with  more  dignity  and  grace. 
He  was  his  own  prime  minister,  and  performed  the  duties  of 
a  prime  minister  with  an  ability  and  an  industry  which  could 
not  be  reasonably  expected  from  one  who  had  in  infancy  suc- 
ceeded to  a  crown,  and  who  had  been  surrounded  by  flatter- 
ers before  he  could  speak.  He  had  shown,  in  an  eminent 
degree,  two  talents  invaluable  to  a  prince,  the  talent  of  choos- 
ing his  servants  well,  and  the  talent  of  appropriating  to  him- 
self the  chief  part  of  the  credit  of  their  acts.  In  his  dealings 
with  foreign  powers  he  had  some  generosity,  but  no  justice. 
To  unhappy  allies  who  threw  themselves  at  his  feet,  and  had 
no  hope  but  in  his  compassion,  he  extended  his  protection 


190  HISTOEY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

with  a  romantic  disinterestedness,  which  seemed  better  suited 
to  a  knight-errant  than  to  a  statesman.  But  he  broke  through 
the  most  sacred  ties  of  public  faith  -without  scruple  or  shame, 
whenever  they  interfered  with  his  interest,  or  with  what  he 
called  his  glory.  His  perfidy  and  violence,  however,  excited 
less  enmity  than  the  insolence  with  which  he  constantly  re- 
minded his  neighbors  of  his  own  greatness  and  of  their  little- 
ness. He  did  not  at  this  time  profess  the  austere  devotion 
which,  at  a  later  period,  gave  to  his  court  the  aspect  of  a  mon- 
astery. On  the  contrary,  he  was  as  licentious,  though  by  no 
means  as  frivolous  and  indolent,  as  his  brother  of  England. 
But  he  was  a  sincere  Roman  Catholic;  and  both  his  con- 
science and  his  vanity  impelled  him  to  use  his  power  for  the 
defence  and  propagation  of  the  true  faith,  after  the  example 
of  his  renowned  predecessors,  Clovis,  Charlemagne,  and  Saint 
Lewis. 

Our  ancestors  naturally  looked  with  serious  alarm  on  the 
growing  power  of  France.  This  feeling,  in  itself  perfectly 
reasonable,  was  mingled  with  other  feelings  less  praiseworthy. 
France  was  our  old  enemy.  It  was  against  France  that  the 
most  glorious  battles  recorded  in  our  annals  had  been  fought. 
The  conquest  of  France  had  been  twice  effected  by  the  Plan- 
tagenets.  The  loss  of  France  had  been  long  remembered  as 
a  great  national  disaster.  The  title  of  King  of  France  was 
still  borne  by  our  sovereigns.  The  lilies  of  France  still  ap- 
peared, mingled  with  our  own  lions,  on  the  shield  of  the 
House  of  Stuart.  In  the  sixteenth  century  the  dread  inspired 
by  Spain  had  suspended  the  animosity  of  which  France  had 
anciently  been  the  object.  But  the  dread  inspired  by  Spain 
had  given  place  to  contemptuous  compassion;  and  France  was 
again  regarded  as  our  national  foe.  The  sale  of  Dunkirk  to 
France  had  been  the  most  generally  unpopular  act  of  the  re- 
stored King.  Attachment  to  France  had  been  prominent 
among  the  crimes  imputed  by  the  Commons  to  Clarendon. 
Even  in  trifles  the  public  feeling  showed  itself.  When  a 
brawl  took  place  in  the  streets  of  Westminster  between  the 
retinues  of  the  French  and  Spanish  embassies,  the  populace, 
though  forcibly  prevented  from  interfering,  had  given  une- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  191 

quivocal  proofs  that  the  old  antipathy  to  France  was  not 
extinct. 

France  and  Spain  were  now  engaged  in  a  more  serions  con- 
test. One  of  the  chief  objects  of  the  policy  of  Lewis  through- 
out his  life  was  to  extend  his  dominions  toward  the  Rhine. 
For  this  end  he  had  engaged  in  war  with  Spain,  and  he  was 
now  in  the  full  career  of  conquest.  The  United  Provinces 
saw  with  anxiety  the  progress  of  his  arms.  That  renowned 
federation  had  reached  the  height  of  power,  prosperity,  and 
glory.  The  Batavian  territory,  conquered  from  the  waves 
and  defended  against  them  by  human  art,  was  in  extent  little 
superior  to  the  principality  of  Wales.  But  all  that  narrow 
space  was  a  busy  and  populous  hive,  in  which  new  wealth 
was  every  day  created,  and  in  which  vast  masses  of  old  wealth 
were  hoarded.  The  aspect  of  Holland,  the  rich  cultivation, 
the  innumerable  canals,  the  ever-whirling  mills,  the  endless 
fleets  of  barges,  the  quick  succession  of  great  towns,  the  ports 
bristling  with  thousands  of  masts,  the  large  and  stately  man- 
sions, the  trim  villas,  the  richly  furnished  apartments,  the 
picture-galleries,  the  summer-houses,  the  tulip-beds,  produced 
on  English  travellers  in  that  age  an  effect  similar  to  the  effect 
which  the  first  sight  of  England  now  produces  on  a  Norwe- 
gian or  a  Canadian.  The  States-general  had  been  compelled 
to  humble  themselves  before  Cromwell.  But  after  the  Res- 
toration they  had  taken  their  revenge,  had  waged  war  with 
success  against  Charles,  and  had  concluded  peace  on  honora- 
ble terms.  Rich,  however,  as  the  republic  was,  and  highly 
considered  in  Europe,  she  was  no  match  for  the  power  of 
Lewis.  She  apprehended,  not  without  good  cause,  that  his 
kingdom  might  soon  be  extended  to  her  frontiers ;  and  she 
might  well  dread  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  monarch  so 
great,  so  ambitious,  and  so  unscrupulous.  Yet  it  was  not 
easy  to  devise  any  expedient  which  might  avert  the  danger. 
The  Dutch  alone  could  not  turn  the  scale  against  France.  On 
the  side  of  the  Rhine  no  help  was  to  be  expected.  Several 
German  princes  had  been  gained  by  Lewis ;  and  the  Emper- 
or himself  was  embarrassed  by  the  discontents  of  Hungary. 
England  was  separated  from  the  United  Provinces  by  the  rec- 


192  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

ollection  of  cruel  injuries  recently  inflicted  and  endured ; 
and  her  policy  had,  since  the  Restoration,  been  so  devoid  of 
wisdom  and  spirit,  that  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  expect  from 
her  any  valuable  assistance. 

But  the  fate  of  Clarendon  and  the  growing  ill  humor  of 
the  Parliament  determined  the  advisers  of  Charles  to  adopt 
on  a  sudden  a  policy  which  amazed  and  delighted  the  nation. 

The  English  resident  at  Brussels,  Sir  William  Temple,  one 
of  the  most  expert  diplomatists  and  most  pleasing  writers  of 
-rue  Triple  AI-  that  age,  had  already  represented  to  his  court  that 
it  was  both  desirable  and  practicable  to  enter  into 
engagements  with  the  States-general  for  the  purpose  of  check- 
ing the  progress  of  France.  For  a  time  his  suggestions  had 
been  slighted ;  but  it  was  now  thought  expedient  to  act  on 
them.  He  was  commissioned  to  negotiate  with  the  States- 
general.  He  proceeded  to  the  Hague,  and  soon  came  to  an 
understanding  with  John  De  Witt,  then  the  chief  minister 
of  Holland.  Sweden,  small  as  her  resources  were,  had,  forty 
years  before,  been  raised  by  the  genius  of  Gustavus  Adolphus 
to  a  high  rank  among  European  powers,  and  had  not  yet  de- 
scended to  her  natural  position.  She  was  induced  to  join  on 
this  occasion  with  Eno-land  and  the  States.  Thus  was  formed 

o 

that  coalition  known  as  the  Triple  Alliance.  Lewis  showed 
signs  of  vexation  and  resentment,  but  did  not  think  it  politic 
to  draw  on  himself  the  hostility  of  such  a  confederacy  in  ad- 
dition to  that  of  Spain.  He  consented,  therefore,  to  relinquish 
a  large  part  of  the  territory  which  his  armies  had  occupied. 
Peace  was  restored  to  Europe ;  and  the  English  government, 
lately  an  object  of  general  contempt,  was,  during  a  few 
months,  regarded  by  foreign  powers  with  respect  scarcely  less 
than  that  which  the  Protector  had  inspired. 

At  home  the  Triple  Alliance  was  popular  in  the  highest 
degree.  It  gratified  alike  national  animosity  and  national 
pride.  It  put  a  limit  to  the  encroachments  of  a  powerful  and 
ambitious  neighbor.  It  bound  the  leading  Protestant  states 
together  in  close  union.  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads  rejoiced 
in  common ;  but  the  joy  of  the  Roundhead  was  even  greater 
than  that  of  the  Cavalier.  For  England  had  now  allied  her- 


CH.  H.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  193 

self  strictly  with  a  country  republican  in  government  and 
Presbyterian  in  religion,  against  a  country  ruled  by  an  arbi- 
trary prince  and  attached  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
The  House  of  Commons  loudly  applauded  the  treaty;  and 
some  uncourtly  grumblers  described  it  as  the  only  good  thing 
that  had  been  done  since  the  King  came  in. 

The  King,  however,  cared  little  for  the  approbation  of  his 
Parliament  or  of  his  people.  The  Triple  Alliance  he  regard- 
The  country  G&  merely  as  a  temporary  expedient  for  quieting 
party.  discontents  which  had  seemed  likely  to  become  se- 

rious. The  independence,  the  safety,  the  dignity  of  the  nation 
over  which  he  presided  were  nothing  to  him.  He  had  begun 
to  find  constitutional  restraints  galling.  Already  had  been 
formed  in  the  Parliament  a  strong  connection  known  by  the 
name  of  the  Country  Party.  That  party  included  all  the  pub- 
lic men  who  leaned  toward  Puritanism  and  Republicanism, 
and  many  who,  though  attached  to  the  Church  and  to  heredi- 
tary monarchy,  had  been  driven  into  opposition  by  dread  of 
Popery,  by  dread  of  France,  and  by  disgust  at  the  extrava- 
gance, dissoluteness,  and  faithlessness  of  the  court.  The  pow- 
er of  this  band  of  politicians  was  constantly  growing.  Every 
year  some  of  those  members  who  had  been  returned  to  Par- 
liament during  the  loyal  excitement  of  1661  had  dropped  off; 
and  the  vacant  seats  had  generally  been  filled  by  persons  less 
tractable.  Charles  did  not  think  himself  a  king  while  an  as- 
sembly of  subjects  could  call  for  his  accounts  before  paying 
his  debts,  and  could  insist  on  knowing  which  of  his  mistresses 
or  boon-companions  had  intercepted  the  money  destined  for 
the  equipping  and  manning  of  the  fleet.  Though  not  very 
studious  of  fame,  he  wras  galled  by  the  taunts  which  were 
sometimes  uttered  in  the  discussions  of  the  Commons,  and  on 
one  occasion  attempted  to  restrain  the  freedom  of  speech  by 
disgraceful  means.  Sir  John  Coventry,  a  country  gentleman, 
had,  in  debate,  sneered  at  the  profligacy  of  the  court.  In  any 
former  reign  he  would  probably  have  been  called  before  the 
Privy  Council  and  committed  to  the  Tower.  A  different 
course  was  now  taken.  A  gang  of  bullies  was  secretly  sent 
to  slit  the  nose  of  the  offender.  This  ignoble  revenge,  instead 

I.— 13 


194  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

of  quelling  the  spirit  of  opposition,  raised  such  a  tempest  that 
the  King  was  compelled  to  submit  to  the  cruel  humiliation 
of  passing  an  act  which  attainted  the  instruments  of  his 
revenge,  and  which  took  from  him  the  power  of  pardoning 
them. 

But,  impatient  as  he  was  of  constitutional  restraints,  how 
was  he  to  emancipate  himself  from  them?  He  could  make 
himself  despotic  only  by  the  help  of  a  great  standing  army; 
and  such  an  army  was  not  in  existence.  His  revenues  did  in- 
deed enable  him  to  keep  up  some  regular  troops :  but  those 
troops,  though  numerous  enough  to  excite  great  jealousy  and 
apprehension  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  in  the  country, 
were  scarcely  numerous  enough  to  protect  Whitehall  and  the 
Tower  against  a  rising  of  the  mob  of  London.  Such  risings 
Were,  indeed,  to  be  dreaded  ;  for  it  was  calculated  that  in  the 
capital  and  its  suburbs  dwelt  not  less  than  twenty  thousand 
of  Oliver's  old  soldiers. 

Since  the  King  was  bent  on  emancipating  himself  from  the 

control  of  Parliament,  and  since,  in  such  an  enterprise,  he 

could  not  hope  for  effectual  aid  at  home,  it  follow- 

Connection  be-  J 

tween  Charles  ed  that  he  must  look  for  aid  abroad.  The  power 
and  wealth  of  the  King  of  France  might  be  equal 
to  the  arduous  task  of  establishing  absolute  monarchy  in  Eng- 
land. Such  an  ally  would  undoubtedly  expect  substantial 
proofs  of  gratitude  for  such  a  service.  Charles  must  descend 
to  the  rank  of  a  great  vassal,  and  must  make  peace  and  war 
according  to  the  directions  of  the  government  which  protect- 
ed him.  His  relation  to  Lewis  would  closely  resemble  that 
in  which  the  Rajah  of  Nagpore  and  the  King  of  Oude  now 
stand  to  the  British  government.  Those  princes  are  bound 
to  aid  the  East  India  Company  in  all  hostilities,  defensive  and 
offensive,  and  to  have  no  diplomatic  relations  but  such  as  the 
East  India  Company  shall  sanction.  The  Company  in  return 
guarantees  them  against  insurrection.  As  long  as  they  faith- 
fully discharge  their  obligations  to  the  paramount  power,  they 
are  permitted  to  dispose  of  large  revenues,  to  fill  their  palaces 
with  beautiful  women,  to  besot  themselves  in  the  company  of 
their  favorite  revellers,  and  to  oppress  with  impunity  any  sub- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  195 

ject  who  may  incur  their  displeasure.*  Such  a  life  would  be 
insupportable  to  a  man  of  high  spirit  and  of  powerful  under- 
standing. But  to  Charles,  sensual,  indolent,  unequal  to  any 
strong  intellectual  exertion,  and  destitute  alike  of  all  patri- 
otism and  of  all  sense  of  personal  dignity,  the  prospect  had 
nothing  unpleasing. 

That  the  Duke  of  York  should  have  concurred  in  the  de- 
sign of  degrading  that  crown  which  it  was  probable  that  he 
would  himself  one  day  wear  may  seem  more  extraordinary. 
For  his  nature  was  haughty  and  imperious ;  and,  indeed,  he 
continued  to  the  very  last  to  show,  by  occasional  starts  and 
struggles,  his  impatience  of  the  French  yoke.  But  he  was 
almost  as  much  debased  by  superstition  as  his  brother  by  in- 
dolence and  vice.  James  was  now  a  Roman  Catholic.  Re- 
ligious bigotry  had  become  the  dominant  sentiment  of  his  nar- 
row and  stubborn  mind,  and  had  so  mingled  itself  with  his 
love  of  rule,  that  the  two  passions  could  hardly  be  distinguish- 
ed from  each  other.  It  seemed  highly  improbable  that,  with- 
out foreign  aid,  he  would  be  able  to  obtain  ascendency,  or 
even  toleration,  for  his  own  faith ;  and  he  was  in  a  temper  to 
see  nothing  humiliating  in  any  step  which  might  promote  the 
interests  of  the  true  Church. 

A  negotiation  was  opened  which  lasted  during  several 
months.  The  chief  agent  between  the  English  and  French 
courts  was  the  beautiful,  graceful,  and  intelligent  Henrietta, 
Duchess  of  Orleans,  sister  of  Charles,  sister-in-law  of  Lewis, 
and  a  favorite  with  both.  The  King  of  England  offered  to 
declare  himself  a  Roman  Catholic,  to  dissolve  the  Triple  Al- 
liance, and  to  join  with  France  against  Holland,  if  France 
would  engage  to  lend  him  such  military  and  pecuniary  aid  as 
might  make  him  independent  of  his  parliament.  Lewis  at 
first  affected  to  receive  these  propositions  coolly,  and  at  length 
agreed  to  them  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  is  conferring  a  great 
favor ;  but,  in  truth,  the  course  which  he  had  resolved  to  take 
was  one  by  which  he  might  gain  and  could  not  lose. 

*  I  am  happy  to  say,  that,  since  this  passage  was  written,  the  territories  both 
of  the  Rajah  of  Nagpore  and  of  the  King  of  Oude  have  been  added  to  the  British 
dominions  (1857). 


196  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

It  seems  certain  that  lie  never  seriously  thought  of  estab- 
lishing despotism  and  Popery  in  England  by  force  of  arms. 
He  must  have  been  aware  that  such  an  enterprise 

Views  of  Lewis  . 

with  respect  to  would  be  in  the  highest  degree  arduous  and  hazard- 
England.  .  ° 

ous,  that  it  would  task  to  the  utmost  all  the  ener- 
gies of  France  during  many  years,  and  that  it  would  be  alto- 
gether incompatible  with  more  promising  schemes  of  aggran- 
dizement, which  were  dear  to  his  heart.  He  would  indeed 
willingly  have  acquired  the  merit  and  the  glory  of  doing  a 
great  service  on  reasonable  terms  to  the  Church  of  which  he 
was  a  member.  But  he  was  little  disposed  to  imitate  his  an- 
cestors who,  in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries,  had  led 
the  flower  of  French  chivalry  to  die  in  Syria  and  Egypt ;  and 
he  well  knew  that  a  crusade  against  Protestantism  in  Great 
Britain  would  not  be  less  perilous  than  the  expeditions  in 
which  the  armies  of  Lewis  the  Seventh  and  of  Lewis  the 
Ninth  had  perished.  He  had  no  motive  for  wishing  the  Stu- 
arts to  be  absolute.  He  did  not  regard  the  English  constitu- 
tion with  feelings  at  all  resembling  those  which  have  in  later 
times  induced  princes  to  make  war  on  the  free  institutions  of 
neighboring  nations.  At  present  a  great  party  zealous  for 
popular  government  has  ramifications  in  every  civilized  coun- 
try. Any  important  advantage  gained  anywhere  by  that  par- 
ty is  almost  certain  to  be  the  signal  for  general  commotion. 
It  is  not  wonderful  that  governments  threatened  by  a  com- 
mon danger  should  combine  for  the  purpose  of  mutual  insur- 
ance. But  in  the  seventeenth  century  no  such  danger  existed. 
Between  the  public  mind  of  England  and  the  public  mind  of 
France,  there  was  a  great  gulf.  Our  institutions  and  our  fac- 
tions were  as  little  understood  at  Paris  as  at  Constantinople. 
It  may  be  doubted  whether  any  one  of  the  forty  members  of 
the  French  Academy  had  an  English  volume  in  his  library,  or 
knew  Shakspeare,  Jonson,  or  Spenser,  even  by  name.  A  few 
Huguenots,  who  had  inherited  the  mutinous  spirit  of  their 
ancestors,  might  perhaps  have  a  fellow-feeling  with  their 
brethren  in  the  faith,  the  English  Roundheads ;  but  the  Hu- 
guenots had  ceased  to  be  formidable.  The  French,  as  a  peo- 
ple, attached  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  proud  of  the  great- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  197 

ness  of  their  king  and  of  their  own  loyalty,  looked  on  our 
struggles  against  Popery  and  arbitrary  power,  not  only  with- 
out admiration  or  sympathy,  but  with  strong  disapprobation 
and  disgust.  It  would  therefore  be  a  great  error  to  ascribe 
the  conduct  of  Lewis  to  apprehensions  at  all  resembling  those 
which,  in  our  age,  induced  the  Holy  Alliance  to  interfere  in 
the  internal  troubles  of  Naples  and  Spain. 

Nevertheless,  the  propositions  made  by  the  court  of  White- 
hall were  most  welcome  to  him.  He  already  meditated  gi- 
gantic designs,  which  were  destined  to  keep  Europe  in  con- 
stant fermentation  during  more  than  forty  years.  He  wish- 
ed to  humble  the  United  Provinces,  and  to  annex  Belgium, 
Tranche  Comte',  and  Lorraine  to  his  dominions.  Nor  was  this 
all.  The  King  of  Spain  was  a  sickly  child.  It  was  likely  that 
he  would  die  without  issue.  His  eldest  sister  was  Queen  of 
France.  A  day  would  almost  certainly  come,  and  might  come 
very  soon,  when  the  House  of  Bourbon  might  lay  claim  to 
that  vast  empire  on  which  the  sun  never  set.  The  union  of 
two  great  monarchies  under  one  head  would  doubtless  be  op- 
posed by  a  continental  coalition.  But  for  any  continental 
coalition  France  single-handed  was  a  match.  England  could 
turn  the  scale.  On  the  course  which,  in  such  a  crisis,  Eng- 
land might  pursue,  the  destinies  of  the  world  would  depend ; 
and  it  was  notorious  that  the  English  Parliament  and  nation 
were  strongly  attached  to  the  policy  which  had  dictated  the 
Triple  Alliance.  Nothing,  therefore,  could  be  more  gratify- 
ing to  Lewis  than  to  learn  that  the  princes  of  the  House  of 
Stuart  needed  his  help,  and  were  willing  to  purchase  that  help 
by  unbounded  subserviency.  He  determined  to  profit  by  the 
opportunity,  and  laid  down  for  himself  a  plan  to  which,  with- 
out deviation,  he  adhered,  till  the  Revolution  of  1688  discon- 
certed all  his  politics.  He  professed  himself  desirous  to  pro- 
mote the  designs  of  the  English  court.  He  promised  large  aid. 
He  from  time  to  time  doled  out  such  aid  as  might  serve  to 
keep  hope  alive,  and  as  he  could  without  risk  or  inconvenience 
spare.  In  this  way,  at  an  expense  very  much  less  than  that 
which  he  incurred  in  building  and  decorating  Versailles  or 
Marli,  he  succeeded  in  making  England,  during  nearly  twen- 


198  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

ty  years,  almost  as  insignificant  a  member  of  the  political  sys- 
tem of  Europe  as  the  republic  of  San  Marino. 

His  object  was  not  to  destroy  our  constitution,  but  to  keep 
the  various  elements  of  which  it  was  composed  in  a  perpet- 
ual state  of  conflict,  and  to  set  irreconcilable  enmity  between 
those  who  had  the  power  of  the  purse  and  those  who  had 
the  power  of  the  sword.  With  this  view  he  bribed  and  stim- 
ulated both  parties  in  turn,  pensioned  at  once  the  ministers 
of  the  crown  and  the  chiefs  of  the  opposition,  encouraged  the 
court  to  withstand  the  seditious  encroachments  of  the  Parlia- 
ment, and  conveyed  to  the  Parliament  intimations  of  the 
arbitrary  designs  of  the  court. 

One  of  the  devices  to  which  he  resorted  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  an  ascendency  in  the  English  counsels  deserves 
especial  notice.  Charles,  though  incapable  of  love  in  the 
highest  sense  of  the  word,  was  the  slave  of  any  woman  whose 
person  excited  his  desires,  and  whose  airs  and  prattle  amused 
his  leisure.  Indeed  a  husband  would  be  justly  derided  who 
should  bear  from  a  wife  of  exalted  rank  and  spotless  virtue 
half  the  insolence  which  the  King  of  England  bore  from 
concubines  who,  while  they  owed  everything  to  his  bounty, 
caressed  his  courtiers  almost  before  his  face.  He  had  patient- 
ly endured  the  termagant  passions  of  Barbara  Palmer  and 
the  pert  vivacity  of  Eleanor  Gwynn.  Lewis  thought  that  the 
most  useful  envoy  who  could  be  sent  to  London  would  be 
a  handsome,  licentious,  and  crafty  Frenchwoman.  Such  a 
woman  was  Louisa,  a  lady  of  the  House  of  Querouaille,  whom 
our  rude  ancestors  called  Madam  Carwell.  She  was  soon  tri- 
umphant over  all  her  rivals,  was  created  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth, was  loaded  with  wealth,  and  obtained  a  dominion 
which  ended  only  with  the  life  of  Charles. 

The  most  important  conditions  of  the  alliance  between  the 
crowns  were  digested  into  a  secret  treaty  which  was  signed  at 
Treaty  of  Dover  in  May,  1670,  just  ten  years  after  the  day 
on  which  Charles  had  landed  at  that  very  port 
amidst  the  acclamations  and  joyful  tears  of  a  too  confiding 
people. 

By  this  treaty  Charles  bound  himself  to  make  public  pro- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  199 

fession  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  to  join'  his  arms  to 
those  of  Lewis  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  the  power  of  the 
United  Provinces,  and  to  employ  the  whole  strength  of  Eng- 
land, by  land  and  sea,  in  support  of  the  rights  of  the  House 
of  Bourbon  to  the  vast  monarchy  of  Spain.  Lewis,  on  the 
other  hand,  engaged  to  pay  a  large  subsidy,  and  promised  that, 
if  any  insurrection  should  break  out  in  England,  he  would 
send  an  army  at  his  own  charge  to  support  his  ally. 

This  compact  was  made  with  gloomy  auspices.  Six  weeks 
after  it  had  been  signed  and  sealed,  the  charming  princess, 
whose  influence  over  her  brother  and  brother-in-law  had  been 
so  pernicious  to  her  country,  was  no  more.  Her  death  gave 
rise  to  horrible  suspicions  which,  for  a  moment,  seemed  likely 
to  interrupt  the  newly  formed  friendship  between  the  Houses 
of  Stuart  and  Bourbon ;  but  in  a  short  time  fresh  assurances 
of  undiminished  good-will  were  exchanged  between  the  con- 
federates. 

The  Duke  of  York,  too  dull  to  apprehend  danger,  or  too 
fanatical  to  care  about  it,  was  impatient  to  see  the  article 
touching  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  carried  into  immediate 
execution :  but  Lewis  had  the  wisdom  to  perceive  that,  if  this 
course  were  taken,  there  would  be  such  an  explosion  in  Eng- 
land as  would  probably  frustrate  those  parts  of  the  plan  which 
he  had  most  at  heart.  It  was  therefore  determined  that 
Charles  should  still  call  himself  a  Protestant,  and  should  still, 
at  high  festivals,  receive  the  sacrament  according  to  the  ritual 
of  the  Church  of  England.  His  more  scrupulous  brother 
ceased  to  appear  in  the  royal  chapel. 

About  this  time  died  the  Duchess  of  York,  daughter  of  the 
banished  Earl  of  Clarendon.  She  had  been,  during  some 
years,  a  concealed  Roman  Catholic.  She  left  two  daughters, 
Mary  and  Anne,  afterward  successively  Queens  of  Great  Brit- 
ain. They  were  bred  Protestants  by  the  positive  command 
of  the  King,  who  knew  that  it  would  be  vain  for  him  to  pro- 
fess himself  a  member  of  the  Church  of  England,  if  children 
who  seemed  likely  to  inherit  his  throne  were,  by  his  permis- 
sion, brought  up  as  members  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

The  principal  servants  of  the  crown  at  this  time  were  men 


200  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

whose  names  have  justly  acquired  an  unenviable  notoriety. 
We  must  take  heed,  however,  that  we  do  not  load  their  mem- 
ory with  infamy  which  of  right  belongs  to  their  master.  For 
the  treaty  of  Dover  the  King  himself  is  chiefly  answerable. 
He  held  conferences  on  it  with  the  French  agents :  he  wrote 
many  letters  concerning  it  with  his  own  hand :  he  was  the 
person  who  first  suggested  the  most  disgraceful  articles  which 
it  contained ;  and  he  carefully  concealed  some  of  those  articles 
from  the  majority  of  his  cabinet. 

Few  things  in  our  history  are  more  curious  than  the  ori- 
gin and  growth  of  the  power  now  possessed  by  the  Cabinet. 
From  ail  early  period  the  Kings  of  England  had 

Nature  of  the  «     r  .*->  .  *? 

English  cab-  been  assisted  by  a  privy  council  to  which  the  law 
assigned  many  important  functions  and  duties. 
During  several  centuries  this  body  deliberated  on  the  gravest 
and  most  delicate  affairs.  But  by  degrees  its  character 
changed.  It  became  too  large  for  despatch  and  secrecy.  The 
rank  of  privy  councillor  was  often  bestowed  as  an  honorary 
distinction  on  persons  to  whom  nothing  was  confided,  and 
whose  opinion  was  never  asked.  The  sovereign,  on  the  most 
important  occasions,  resorted  for  advice  to  a  small  knot  of 
leading  ministers.  The  advantages  and  disadvantages  of 
this  course  were  early  pointed  out  by  Bacon,  with  his  usual 
judgment  and  sagacity ;  but  it  was  not  till  after  the  Restora- 
tion that  the  interior  council  began  to  attract  general  notice. 
During  many  years  old-fashioned  politicians  continued  to  re- 
gard the  Cabinet  as  an  unconstitutional  and  dangerous  board. 
Nevertheless,  it  constantly  became  more  and  more  important. 
It  at  length  drew  to  itself  the  chief  executive  power,  and  has 
now  been  regarded,  during  several  generations,  as  an  essential 
part  of  our  polity.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  it  still  continues  to 
be  altogether  unknown  to  the  law :  the  names  of  the  noble- 
men and  gentlemen  who  compose  it  are  never  officially  an- 
nounced to  the  public :  no  record  is  kept  of  its  meetings  and 
resolutions ;  nor  has  its  existence  ever  been  recognized  by  any 
act  of  parliament. 

During  some  years  the  word  Cabal  was  popularly  used  as 
synonymous  with  Cabinet.     But  it  happened  by  a  whimsical 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  201 

coincidence  that,  in  1671,  the  Cabinet  consisted  of  five  persons, 
the  initial  letters  of  whose  names  made  up  the  word 

The  Cabal. 

Cabal :  Clifford,  Arlington,  Buckingham,  Ashley, 
and  Lauderdale.  These  ministers  were,  therefore,  emphatical- 
ly called  the  Cabal ;  and  they  soon  made  that  appellation  so 
infamous  that  it  has  never  since  their  time  been  used  except 
as  a  term  of  reproach. 

Sir  Thomas  Clifford  was  a  Commissioner  of  the  Treasury, 
and  had  greatly  distinguished  himself  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. Of  the  members  of  the  Cabal  he  was  the  most  respect- 
able. For,  with  a  fiery  and  imperious  temper,  he  had  a  strong 
though  a  lamentably  perverted  sense  of  duty  and  honor. 

Henry  Bennet,  Lord  Arlington,  then  Secretary  of  State, 
had,  since  he  came  to  manhood,  resided  principally  on  the 
Continent,  and  had  learned  that  cosmopolitan  indifference  to 
constitutions  and  religions  which  is  often  observable  in  per- 
sons whose  life  has  been  passed  in  vagrant  diplomacy.  If 
there  was  any  form  of  government  which  he  liked,  it  was  that 
of  France.  If  there  was  any  Church  for  which  he  felt  a  pref- 
erence, it  was  that  of  Rome.  He  had  some  talent  for  conver- 
sation, and  some  talent  also  for  transacting  the  ordinary  busi- 
ness of  office.  He  had  learned,  during  a  life  passed  in  travel- 
ling and  negotiating,  the  art  of  accommodating  his  language 
and  deportment  to  the  society  in  which  he  found  himself. 
His  vivacity  in  the  closet  amused  the  King ;  his  gravity  in 
debates  and  conferences  imposed  on  the  public ;  and  he  had 
succeeded  in  attaching  to  himself,  partly  by  services  and  part- 
ly by  hopes,  a  considerable  number  of  personal  retainers. 

Buckingham,  Ashley,  and  Lauderdale  were  men  in  whom 
the  immorality  which  was  epidemic  among  the  politicians  of 
that  age  appeared  in  its  most  malignant  type,  but  variously 
modified  by  great  diversities  of  temper  and  understanding. 
Buckingham  was  a  sated  man  of  pleasure,  who  had  turned  to 
ambition  as  to  a  pastime.  As  he  had  tried  to  amuse  him- 
self with  architecture  and  music,  with  writing  farces  and  with 
seeking  for  the  philosopher's  stone,  so  he  now  tried  to  amuse 
himself  with  a  secret  negotiation  and  a  Dutch  war.  He  had 
already,  rather  from  fickleness  and  love  of  novelty  than  from 


202  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  On.  II. 

any  deep  design,  been  faithless  to  every  party.  At  one  time 
he  had  ranked  among  the  Cavaliers.  At  another  time  war- 
rants had  been  out  against  him  for  maintaining  a  treasonable 
correspondence  with  the  remains  of  the  Republican  party  in 
the  city.  He  was  now  again  a  courtier,  and  was  eager  to  win 
the  favor  of  the  King  by  services  from  which  the  most  illus- 
trious of  those  who  had  fought  and  suffered  for  the  royal 
house  would  have  recoiled  with  horror. 

Ashley,  with  a  far  stronger  head,  and  with  a  far  fiercer  and 
more  earnest  ambition,  had  been  equally  versatile.  But  Ash- 
ley's versatility  was  the  effect,  not  of  levity,  but  of  deliberate 
selfishness.  He  had  served  and  betrayed  a  succession  of  gov- 
ernments. But  he  had  timed  all  his  treacheries  so  well  that, 
through  all  revolutions,  his  fortunes  had  constantly  been  ris- 
ing. The  multitude,  struck  with  admiration  by  a  prosperi- 
ty which,  while  everything  else  was  constantly  changing,  re- 
mained unchangeable,  attributed  to  him  a  prescience  almost 
miraculous,  and  likened  him  to  the  Hebrew  statesman  of 
whom  it  is  written  that  his  counsel  was  as  if  a  man  had  in- 
quired of  the  oracle  of  God. 

Lauderdale,  loud  and  coarse  both  in  mirth  and  anger,  was 
perhaps,  under  the  outward  show  of  boisterous  frankness,  the 
most  dishonest  man  in  the  whole  Cabal.  He  had  made  him- 
self conspicuous  among  the  Scotch  insurgents  of  1638  by  his 
zeal  for  the  Covenant.  He  was  accused  of  having  been  deep- 
ly concerned  in  the  sale  of  Charles  the  First  to  the  English 
Parliament,  and  was  therefore,  in  the  estimation  of  good  Cav- 
aliers, a  traitor,  if  possible,  of  a  worse  description  than  those 
who  had  sat  in  the  High  Court  of  Justice.  He  often  talked 
with  noisy  jocularity  of  the  days  when  he  was  a  canter  and  a 
rebel.  He  was  now  the  chief  instrument  employed  by  the 
court  in  the  work  of  forcing  episcopacy  on  his  reluctant 
countrymen ;  nor  did  he  in  that  cause  shrink  from  the  un- 
sparing use  of  the  sword,  the  halter,  and  the  boot.  Yet  those 
who  knew  him  knew  that  thirty  years  had  made  no  change 
in  his  real  sentiments,  that  he  still  hated  the  memory  of 
Charles  the  First,  and  that  he  still  preferred  the  Presbyterian 
form  of  church  government  to  every  other. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  203 

Unscrupulous  as  Buckingham,  Ashley,  and  Lauderdale  were, 
it  was  not  thought  safe  to  intrust  to  them  the  King's  inten- 
tion of  declaring  himself  a  Roman  Catholic.  A  false  treaty, 
in  which  the  article  concerning  religion  was  omitted,  was 
shown  to  them.  The  names  and  seals  of  Clifford  and  Ar- 
lington are  affixed  to  the  genuine  treaty.  Both  these  states- 
men had  a  partiality  for  the  old  Church,  a  partiality  which 
the  brave  and  vehement  Clifford  in  no  long  time  manfully 
avowed,  but  which  the  colder  and  meaner  Arlington  con- 
cealed, till  the  near  approach  of  death  scared  him  into  sincer- 
ity. The  three  other  Cabinet  ministers,  however,  were  not 
men  to  be  easily  kept  in  the  dark,  and  probably  suspected 
more  than  was  distinctly  avowed  to  them.  They  were  cer- 
tainly privy  to  all  the  political  engagements  contracted  with 
France,  and  were  not  ashamed  to  receive  large  gratifications 
from  Lewis. 

The  first  object  of  Charles  was  to  obtain  from  the  Com- 
mons supplies  which  might  be  employed  in  executing  the  se- 
cret treaty.  The  Cabal,  holding  power  at  a  time  when  our 
government  was  in  a  state  of  transition,  united  in  itself  two 
different  kinds  of  vices  belonging  to  two  different  ages  and 
to  two  different  systems.  As  those  five  evil  counsellors  were 
among  the  last  English  statesmen  who  seriously  thought  of 
destroying  the  Parliament,  so  they  were  the  first  English 
statesmen  who  attempted  extensively  to  corrupt  it.  "We  find 
in  their  policy  at  once  the  latest  trace  of  the  Thorough  of 
Strafford,  and  the  earliest  trace  of  that  methodical  bribery 
which  was  afterward  practised  by  Walpole.  They  soon  per- 
ceived, however,  that,  though  the  House  of  Commons  was 
chiefly  composed  of  Cavaliers,  and  though  places  and  French 
gold  had  been  lavished  on  the  members,  there  was  no  chance 
that  even  the  least  odious  parts  of  the  scheme  arranged  at 
Dover  would  be  supported  by  a  majority.  It  was  necessary 
to  have  recourse  to  fraud.  The  King  accordingly  professed 
great  zeal  for  the  principles  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  and  pre- 
tended that,  in  order  to  hold  the  ambition  of  France  in  check, 
it  would  be  necessary  to  augment  the  fleet.  The  Commons 
fell  into  the  snare,  and  voted  a  grant  of  eight  hundred  thou- 


204  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

sand  pounds.  The  Parliament  was  instantly  prorogued  ;  and 
the  court,  thus  emancipated  from  control,  proceeded  to  the 
execution  of  the  great  design. 

The  financial  difficulties,  however,  were  serious.  A  war 
with  Holland  could  be  carried  on  only  at  enormous  cost, 
shutuns  of  the  The  ordinary  revenue  was  not  more  than  sufficient 
Exchequer.  j.Q  support  the  government  in  time  of  peace.  The 
eight  hundred  thousand  pounds  out  of  which  the  Commons 
had  just  been  tricked  would  not  defray  the  naval  and  mili- 
tary charge  of  a  single  year  of  hostilities.  After  the  terrible 
lesson  given  by  the  Long  Parliament,  even  the  Cabal  did  not 
venture  to  recommend  benevolences  or  ship-money.  In  this 
perplexity  Ashley  and  Clifford  proposed  a  flagitious  breach  of 
public  faith.  The  goldsmiths  of  London  were  then  not  only 
dealers  in  the  precious  metals,  but  also  bankers,  and  were  in 
the  habit  of  advancing  large  sums  of  money  to  the  govern- 
ment. In  return  for  thes'e  advances  they  received  assign- 
ments on  the  revenue,  and  "were  repaid  with  interest  as  the 
taxes  came  in.  About  thirteen  hundred  thousand  pounds  had 
been  in  this  way  intrusted  to  the  honor  of  the  state.  On  a 
sudden  it  was  announced  that  it  was  not  convenient  to  pay 
the  principal,  and  that  the  lenders  must  content  themselves 
with  interest.  They  were  consequently  unable  to  meet  their 
own  engagements.  The  Exchange  was  in  an  uproar :  several 
great  mercantile  houses  broke ;  and  dismay  and  distress  spread 
through  all  society.  Meanwhile  rapid  strides  were  made  to- 
ward despotism.  Proclamations,  dispensing  with  acts  of  par- 
liament, or  enjoining  what  only  Parliament  could  lawfully 
enjoin,  appeared  in  rapid  succession.  Of  these  edicts  the 
most  important  was  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  By  this 
instrument  the  penal  laws  against  Roman  Catholics  were  set 
aside ;  and,  that  the  real  object  of  the  measure  might  not  be 
perceived,  the  laws  against  Protestant  Non-conformists  were 
also  suspended. 

A  few  days  after  the  appearance  of  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dulgence, war  was  proclaimed  against  the  United  Provinces. 
By  sea  the  Dutch  maintained  the  struggle  with  honor;  but  on 
land  they  were  at  first  borne  down  by  irresistible  force.  A 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  205 

great  French  army  passed  the  Rhine.     Fortress  after  fortress 
opened  its  gates.     Three   of  the  seven  provinces 

War  with  the         r  " 

united  PTOV-    of  the  federation  were  occupied  by  the  invaders. 

inces,  and  » 

their  extreme    Ihe  fares  of  the  hostile  camp  were  seen  from  the 

danger. 

top  of  the  Stadthouse  of  Amsterdam.  The  repub- 
lic, thus  fiercely  assailed  from  without,  was  torn  at  the  same 
time  by  internal  dissensions.  The  government  was  in  the 
hands  of  a  close  oligarchy  of  powerful  burghers.  There  were 
numerous  self-elected  town  councils,  each  of  which  exercised, 
within  its  own  sphere,  many  of  the  rights  of  sovereignty. 
These  councils  sent  delegates  to  the  Provincial  States,  and 
the  Provincial  States  again  sent  delegates  to  the  States-gen- 
eral. A  hereditary  first  magistrate  was  no  essential  part  of 
this  polity.  Nevertheless  one  family,  singularly  fertile  of 
great  men,  had  gradually  obtained  a  large  and  somewhat  in- 
definite authority.  William,  first  of  the  name,  Prince  of 
Orange  Nassau,  and  Stadtholder  of  Holland,  had  headed  the 
memorable  insurrection  against  Spain.  His  son  Maurice  had 
been  captain-general  and  first  minister  of  the  states,  had,  by 
eminent  abilities  and  public  services,  and  by  some  treacherous 
and  cruel  actions,  raised  himself  to  almost  kingly  power,  and 
had  bequeathed  a  great  part  of  that  power  to  his  family.  The 
influence  of  the  Stadtholders  was  an  object  of  extreme  jeal- 
ousy to  the  municipal  oligarchy.  But  the  army,  and  that 
great  body  of  citizens  which  was  excluded  from  all  share 
in  the  government,  looked  on  the  burgomasters  and  deputies 
with  a  dislike  resembling  the  dislike  with  which  the  legions 
and  the  common  people  of  Home  regarded  the  Senate,  and 
were  as  zealous  for  the  House  of  Orange  as  the  legions  and 
the  common  people  of  Rome  for  the  House  of  Caesar.  The 
Stadtholder  commanded  the  forces  of  the  commonwealth,  dis- 
posed of  all  military  commands,  had  a  large  share  of  the  civil 
patronage,  and  was  surrounded  by  pomp  almost  regal. 

Prince  William  the  Second  had  been  strongly  opposed  by 
the  oligarchical  party.  His  life  had  terminated  in  the  year 
1650,  amidst  great  civil  troubles.  He  died  childless :  the  ad- 
herents of  his  house  were  left  for  a  short  time  without  a 
head;  and  the  powers  which  he  had  exercised  were  divided 


206  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

among  the  town  councils,  the  Provincial  States,  and  the  States- 
general. 

But,  a  few  days  after  William's  death,  his  widow,  Mary, 
daughter  of  Charles  the  First,  King  of  Great  Britain,  gave 
birth  to  a  son,  destined  to  raise  the  glory  and  authority  of 
the  House  of  Nassau  to  the  highest  point,  to  save  the  United 
Provinces  from  slavery,  to  curb  the  power  of  France,  and  to 
establish  the  English  constitution  on  a  lasting  foundation. 

This  prince,  named  William  Henry,  was  from  his  birth  an 

object  of  serious  apprehension  to  the  party  now  supreme  in 

Holland,  and  of  loyal  attachment  to  the  old  friends 

prince  of  or-    of  his  line.     He  enioyed  high  consideration  as  the 

'Hi11' i1 

possessor  of  a  splendid  fortune,  as  the  chief  of  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  houses  in  Europe,  as  a  magnate  of  the 
German  empire,  as  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal  of  England, 
and,  above  all,  as  the  descendant  of  the  founders  of  Batavian 
liberty.  But  the  high  office  which  had  once  been  considered 
as  hereditary  in  his  family  remained  in  abeyance ;  and  the  in- 
tention of  the  aristocratical  party  was  that  there  should  never 
be  another  stadtholder.  The  want  of  a  first  magistrate  was, 
to  a  great  extent,  supplied  by  the  Grand  Pensionary  of  the 
province  of  Holland,  John  de  Witt,  whose  abilities,  firmness, 
and  integrity  had  raised  him  to  unrivalled  authority  in  the 
councils  of  the  municipal  oligarchy. 

The  French  invasion  produced  a  complete  change.  The 
suffering  and  terrified  people  raged  fiercely  against  the  gov- 
ernment. In  their  madness  they  attacked  the  bravest  cap- 
tains and  the  ablest  statesmen  of  the  distressed  common- 
wealth. De  Euyter  was  insulted  by  the  rabble.  De  Witt 
was  torn  in  pieces  before  the  gate  of  the  palace  of  the  States- 
general  at  the  Hague.  The  Prince  of  Orange,  who  had  no 
share  in  the  guilt  of  the  murder,  but  who,  on  this  occasion, 
as  on  another  lamentable  occasion  twenty  years  later,,  extend- 
ed to  crimes  perpetrated  in  his  cause  an  indulgence  which 
has  left  a  stain  on  his  glory,  became  chief  of  the  government 
without  a  rival.  Young  as  he  was,  his  ardent  and  unconquer- 
able spirit,  though  disguised  by  a  cold  and  sullen  manner, 
soon  roused  the  courage  of  his  dismayed  countrymen.  It  was 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  207 

in  vain  that  both  his  uncle  and  the  French  King  attempted, 
by  splendid  offers,  to  seduce  him  from  the  cause  of  the  re- 
public. To  the  States-general  he  spoke  a  high  and  inspiriting 
language.  He  even  ventured  to  suggest  a  scheme  which  has 
an  aspect  of  antique  heroism,  and  which,  if  it  had  been  accom- 
plished, would  have  been  the  noblest  subject  for  epic  song 
that  is  to  be  found  in  the  whole  compass  of  modern  history. 
He  told  the  deputies  that,  even  if  their  natal  soil  and  the 
marvels  with  which  human  industry  had  covered  it  wTere  bur- 
ied under  the  ocean,  all  was  not  lost.  The  Hollanders  might 
survive  Holland.  Liberty  and  pure  religion,  driven  by  ty- 
rants and  bigots  from  Europe,  might  take  refuge  in  the  far- 
thest isles  of  Asia.  The  shipping  in  the  ports  of  the  repub- 
lic would  suffice  to  carry  two  hundred  thousand  emigrants  to 
the  Indian  Archipelago.  There  the  Dutch  commonwealth 
might  commence  a  new  and  more  glorious  existence,  and 
might  rear,  under  the  Southern  Cross,  amidst  the  sugar-canes 
and  nutmeg-trees,  the  Exchange  of  a  wealthier  Amsterdam, 
and  the  schools  of  a  more  learned  Ley  den.  The  national 
spirit  swelled  and  rose  high.  The  terms  offered  by  the  allies 
were  firmly  rejected.  The  dikes  were  opened.  The  whole 
country  was  turned  into  one  great  lake,  from  which  the  cities, 
with  their  ramparts  and  steeples,  rose  like  islands.  The  in- 
vaders were  forced  to  save  themselves  from  destruction  by  a 
precipitate  retreat.  Lewis,  who,  though  he  sometimes  thought 
it  necessary  to  appear  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  greatly  pre- 
ferred a  palace  to  a  camp,  had  already  returned  to  enjoy  the 
adulation  of  poets  and  the  smiles  of  ladies  in  the  newly  plant- 
ed alleys  of  Versailles. 

And  now  the  tide  turned  fast.  The  event  of  the  maritime 
war  had  been  doubtful :  by  land  the  United  Provinces  had 
obtained  a  respite  ;  and  a  respite,  though  short,  was  of  infinite 
importance.  Alarmed  by  the  vast  designs  of  Lewis,  both  the 
branches  of  the  great  House  of  Austria  sprang  to  arms. 
Spain  and  Holland,  divided  by  the  memory  of  ancient  wrongs 
and  humiliations,  were  reconciled  by  the  nearness  of  the  com- 
mon danger.  From  every  part  of  Germany  troops  poured 
toward  the  Rhine.  The  English  government  had  already  ex- 


208  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

pended  all  the  funds  which  had  been  obtained  by  pillaging 
the  public  creditor.  No  loan  could  be  expected  from  the 
City.  An  attempt  to  raise  taxes  by  the  royal  authority  would 
have  at  once  produced  a  rebellion  ;  and  Lewis,  who  had  now 
to  maintain  a  contest  against  half  Europe,  was  in  no  condition 
to  furnish  the  means  of  coercing  the  people  of  England.  It 
was  necessary  to  convoke  the  Parliament. 

In  the  spring  of  1673,  therefore,  the  Houses  reassembled 
after  a  recess  of  near  two  years.  Clifford,  now  a  peer  and 
Meeting  of  the  Lord  Treasurer,  and  Ashley,  now  Earl  of  Shaftes- 
Pariuunent.  \)Ury  an(j  Lord  Chancellor,  were  the  persons  on 
whom  the  King  principally  relied  as  parliamentary  managers. 
The  Country  party  instantly  began  to  attack  the  policy  of  the 
Cabal.  The  attack  was  made,  not  in  the  way  of  storm,  but 
by  slow  and  scientific  approaches.  The  Commons  at  first 
held  out  hopes  that  they  would  give  support  to  the  King's 
foreign  policy,  but  insisted  that  he  should  purchase  that  sup- 
port by  abandoning  his  whole  system  of  domestic  policy. 
Their  chief  object  was  to  obtain  the  revocation  of  the  Decla- 
ration of  Indulgence.  Of  all  the  many  unpopular  steps  taken 
Declaration  of  by  the  government,  the  most  unpopular  was  the 
indulgence,  publishing  of  this  Declaration.  The  most  opposite 
sentiments  had  been  shocked  by  an  act  so  liberal,  done  in  a 
manner  so  despotic.  All  the  enemies  of  religious  freedom, 
and  all  the  friends  of  civil  freedom,  found  themselves  on  the 
same  side ;  and  these  two  classes  made  up  nineteen-twentieths 
of  the  nation.  The  zealous  Churchman  exclaimed  against  the 
favor  which  had  been  shown  both  to  the  Papist  and  to  the 
Puritan.  The  Puritan,  though  he  might  rejoice  in  the  sus- 
pension of  the  persecution  by  which  he  had  been  harassed,  felt 
little  gratitude  for  a  toleration  which  he  was  to  share  with 
Antichrist.  And  all  Englishmen  who  valued  liberty  and  law 
saw  with  uneasiness  the  deep  inroad  which  the  prerogative 
had  made  into  the  province  of  the  legislature. 

It  must  in  candor  be  admitted  that  the  constitutional  ques- 
tion was  then  not  quite  free  from  obscurity.  Our  ancient 
kings  had  undoubtedly  claimed  and  exercised  the  right  of 
suspending  the  operation  of  penal  laws.  The  tribunals  had 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  209 

recognized  that  right.  Parliaments  had  suffered  it  to  pass 
unchallenged.  That  some  such  right  was  inherent  in  the 
crown,  few  even  of  the  Country  party  ventured,  i.i  the  face 
of  precedent  and  authority,  to  deny.  Yet  it  was  clear  that, 
if  this  prerogative  were  without  limit,  the  English  govern- 
ment could  scarcely  be  distinguished  from  a  pure  despotism. 
That  there  was  a  limit  was  fully  admitted  by  the  King  and 
his  ministers.  Whether  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence  lay 
within  or  without  the  limit  was  the  question ;  and  neither 
party  could  succeed  in  tracing  any  line  which  would  bear  ex- 
amination. Some  opponents  of  the  government  complained 
that  the  Declaration  suspended  not  less  than  forty  statutes. 
But  why  not  forty  as  well  as  one  ?  There  was  an  orator  who 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  King  might  constitutionally 
dispense  with  bad  laws,  but  not  with  good  laws.  The  absurd- 
ity of  such  a  distinction  it  is  needless  to  expose.  The  doc- 
trine which  seems  to  have  been  generally  received  in  the 
House  of  Commons  was,  that  the  dispensing  power  was  con- 
fined to  secular  matters,  and  did  not  extend  to  laws  enacted 
for  the  security  of  the  established  religion.  Yet,  as  the  King 
was  supreme  head  of  the  Church,  it  should  seem  that,  if  he 
possessed  the  dispensing  power  at  all,  he  might  well  possess 
that  power  where  the  Church  was  concerned.  When  the 
courtiers  on  the  other  side  attempted  to  point  out  the  bounds 
of  this  prerogative,  they  were  not  more  successful  than  the 
opposition  had  been. 

The  truth  is  that  the  dispensing  power  was  a  great  anom- 
aly in  politics.  It  was  utterly  inconsistent  in  theory  with  the 
principles  of  mixed  government :  but  it  had  grown  up  in 
times  when  people  troubled  themselves  little  about  theories.* 
It  had  not  been  very  grossly  abused  in  practice.  It  had,  there- 
fore, been  tolerated,  and  had  gradually  acquired  a  kind  of  pre- 
scription. At  length  it  was  employed,  after  a  long  interval, 
in  an  enlightened  age,  and  at  an  important  conjuncture,  to  an 
extent  never  before  known,  and  for  a  purpose  generally  ab- 

*  The  most  sensible  thing  said  in  the  House  of  Commons,  on  this  subject,  came 
from  Sir  William  Coventry :  "  Our  ancestors  never  did  draw  a  line  to  circumscribe 
prerogative  and  liberty." 

I.— U 


210  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

horred.  It  was  instantly  subjected  to  a  severe  scrutiny.  Men 
did  not,  indeed,  at  first,  venture  to  pronounce  it  altogether 
unconstitutional.  But  they  began  to  perceive  that  it  was  at 
direct  variance  with  the  spirit  of  the  constitution,  and  would, 
if  left  unchecked,  turn  the  English  government  from  a  lim- 
ited into  an  absolute  monarchy. 

Under  the  influence  of  such  apprehensions,  the  Commons 

denied  the  King's  right  to  dispense,  not  indeed  with  all  penal 

statutes,  but  with  penal  statutes  in  matters  ecclesi- 

It  is  cancelled,  .      .  f,  . 

and  the  Test  astical,  and  gave  him  plainly  to  understand  that, 
unless  he  renounced  that  right,  they  would  grant 
no  supply  for  the  Dutch  war.  He,  for  a  moment,  showed 
some  inclination  to  put  everything  to  hazard ;  but  he  was 
strongly  advised  by  Lewis  to  submit  to  necessity,  and  to  wait 
for  better  times,  when  the  French  armies,  now  employed  in 
an  arduous  struggle  on  the  Continent,  might  be  available  for 
the  purpose  of  suppressing  discontent  in  England.  In  the 
Cabal  itself  the  signs  of  disunion  and  treachery  began  to  ap- 
pear. Shaftesbury,  with  his  proverbial  sagacity,  saw  that  a 
violent  reaction  was  at  hand,  and  that  all  things  were  tending 
toward  a  crisis  resembling  that  of  1640.  He  was  determined 
that  such  a  crisis  should  not  find  him  in  the  situation  of  Straf- 
ford.  He  therefore  turned  suddenly  round,  and  acknowl- 
edged, in  the  House  of  Lords,  that  the  Declaration  was  ille- 
gal. The  King,  thus  deserted  by  his  ally  and  by  his  chancel- 
lor, yielded,  cancelled  the  Declaration,  and  solemnly  promised 
that  it  should  never  be  drawn  into  precedent. 

Even  this  concession  was  insufficient.  The  Commons,  not 
content  with  having  forced  their  sovereign  to  annul  the  In- 
dulgence, next  extorted  his  unwilling  assent  to  a  celebrated 
law,  which  continued  in  force  down  to  the  reign  of  George 
the  Fourth.  This  law,  kno\vn  as  the  Test  Act,  provided  that 
all  persons  holding  any  office,  civil  or  military,  should  take 
the  oath  of  supremacy,  should  subscribe  a  declaration  against 
transubstantiation,  and  should  publicly  receive  the  sacrament 
according  to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England.  The  pream- 
ble expressed  hostility  only  to  the  Papists :  but  the  enacting 
clauses  were  scarcely  more  unfavorable  to  the  Papists  than  to 


Cu.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  211 

the  rigid  Puritans.  The  Puritans,  however,  terrified  at  the 
evident  leaning  of  the  court  toward  Popery,  and  encouraged 
by  some  churchmen  to  hope  that,  as  soon  as  the  Roman  Cath- 
olics should  have  been  effectually  disarmed,  relief  would  be 
extended  to  Protestant  Non-conformists,  made  little  opposi- 
tion ;  nor  could  the  King,  who  was  in  extreme  want  of  mon- 
ey, venture  to  withhold  his  sanction.  The  act  was  passed ; 
and  the  Duke  of  York  was  consequently  under  the  necessity 
of  resigning  the  great  place  of  Lord  High  Admiral. 

Hitherto  the  Commons  had  not  declared  against  the  Dutch 
war.  But,  when  the  King  had,  in  return  for  money  cautious- 
The  cabai ms-  ty  doled  out,  relinquished  his  whole  plan  of  domes- 
tic policy,  they  fell  impetuously  on  his  foreign  pol- 
icy. They  requested  him  to  dismiss  Buckingham  and  Lau- 
derdale  from  his  councils  forever,  and  appointed  a  committee 
to  consider  the  propriety  of  impeaching  Arlington.  In  a 
short  time  the  Cabal  was  no  more.  Clifford,  who,  alone  of 
the  five,  had  any  claim  to  be  regarded  as  an  honest  man,  re- 
fused to  take  the  new  test,  laid  down  his  white  staff,  and  re- 
tired to  his  country-seat.  Arlington  quitted  the  post  of  Sec- 
retary of  State  for  a  quiet  and  dignified  employment  in  the 
royal  household.  Shaftesbury  and  Buckingham  made  their 
peace  with  the  opposition,  and  appeared  at  the  head  of  the 
stormy  democracy  of  the  city.  Lauderdale,  however,  still  con- 
tinued to  be  minister  for  Scotch  affairs,  with  which  the  Eng- 
lish Parliament  could  not  interfere. 

And  now  the  Commons  urged  the  King  to  make  peace 
with  Holland,  and  expressly  declared  that  no  more  supplies 
should  be  granted  for  the  war,  unless  it  should  appear  that 
the  enemy  obstinately  refused  to  consent  to  reasonable  terms. 
Charles  found  it  necessary  to  postpone  to  a  more  convenient 
season  all  thought  of  executing  the  treaty  of  Dover,  and  to 
cajole  the  nation  by  pretending  to  return  to  the  policy  of  the 
Triple  Alliance.  Temple,  who,  during  the  ascendency  of  the 
Cabal,  had  lived  in  seclusion  among  his  books  and 

Peace  with  the  7  °      . 

united  Prov-    flower-beds,  was  called  forth  from  his  hermitage. 

inces.  . 

By  his  instrumentality  a  separate  peace  was  con- 
cluded with  the  United  Provinces ;  and  he  again  became  am- 


212  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

bassador  at  the  Hague,  where  his  presence  was  regarded  as  a 
sure  pledge  for  the  sincerity  of  his  court. 

The  chief  direction  of  affairs  was  now  intrusted  to  Sir 
Thomas  Osborne,  a  Yorkshire  baronet,  who  had,  in  the  House 
Administra-  °f  Commons,  shown  eminent  talents  for  business 
turn  of  Danby.  an(j  de^te.  Osborne  became  Lord  Treasurer,  and 
was  soon  created  Earl  of  Danby.  He  was  not  a  man  whose 
character,  if  tried  by  any  high  standard  of  morality,  would 
appear  to  merit  approbation.  He  was  greedy  of  wealth  and 
honors,  corrupt  himself,  and  a  corrupter  of  others.  The  Ca- 
bal had  bequeathed  to  him  the  art  of  bribing  parliaments,  an 
art  still  rude,  and  giving  little  promise  of  the  rare  perfection 
to  which  it  was  brought  in  the  following  century.  He  im- 
proved greatly  on  the  plan  of  the  first  inventors.  They  had 
merely  purchased  orators;  but  every  man  who  had  a  vote 
might  sell  himself  to  Danby.  Yet  the  new  minister  must 
not  be  confounded  with  the  negotiators  of  Dover.  He  was 
not  without  the  feelings  of  an  Englishman  and  a  Protestant ; 
nor  did  he,  in  his  solicitude  for -his  own  interests,  ever  wholly 
forget  the  interests  of  his  country  and  of  his  religion.  He 
was  desirous,  indeed,  to  exalt  the  prerogative ;  but  the  means 
by  which  he  proposed  to  exalt  it  were  widely  different  from 
those  which  had  been  contemplated  by  Arlington  and  Clif- 
ford. The  thought  of  establishing  arbitrary  power,  by  call- 
ing in  the  aid  of  foreign  arms,  and  by  reducing  the  kingdom 
to  the  rank  of  a  dependent  principality,  never  entered  into 
his  mind.  His  plan  was  to  rally  round  the  monarchy  those 
classes  which  had  been  the  firm  allies  of  the  monarchy  dur- 
ing the  troubles  of  the  preceding  generation,  and  which  had 
been  disgusted  by  the  recent  crimes  and  errors  of  the  court. 
With  the  help  of  the  old  Cavalier  interest,  of  the  nobles,  of 
the  country  gentlemen,  of  the  clergy,  and  of  the  Universities, 
it  might,  he  conceived,  be  possible  to  make  Charles,  not  in- 
deed an  absolute  sovereign,  but  a  sovereign  scarcely  less  pow- 
erful than  Elizabeth  had  been. 

Prompted  by  these  feelings,  Danby  formed  the  design  of 
securing  to  the  Cavalier  party  the  exclusive  possession  of  all 
political  power,  both  executive  and  legislative.  In  the  year 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  213 

1675,  accordingly,  a  bill  was  offered  to  the  Lords  which  pro- 
vided that  no  person  should  hold  any  office,  or  should  sit  in 
either  House  of  Parliament,  without  first  declaring  on  oath 
that  he  considered  resistance  to  the  kingly  power  as  in  all 
cases  criminal,  and  that  he  would  never  endeavor  to  alter  the 
government  either  in  Church  or  State.  During  several  weeks 
the  debates,  divisions,  and  protests  caused  by  this  proposition 
kept  the  country  in  a  state  of  excitement.  The  opposition 
in  the  House  of  Lords,  headed  by  two  members  of  the  Cabal 
who  were  desirous  to  make  their  peace  with  the  nation,  Buck- 
ingham and  Shaftesbury,  was  beyond  all  precedent  vehement 
and  pertinacious,  and  at  length  proved  successful.  The  bill 
was  not  indeed  rejected,  but  was  retarded,  mutilated,  and  at 
length  suffered  to  drop. 

So  arbitrary  and  so  exclusive  was  Danby's  scheme  of  do- 
mestic policy.  His  opinions  touching  foreign  policy  did  him 
more  honor.  They  were  in  truth  directly  opposed  to  those 
of  the  Cabal,  and  differed  little  from  those  of  the  Country 
party.  He  bitterly  lamented  the  degraded  situation  to  which 
England  was  reduced,  and  declared,  with  more  energy  than 
politeness,  that  his  dearest  wish  was  to  cudgel  the  French 
into  a  proper  respect  for  her.  So  little  did  he  disguise  his 
feelings  that,  at  a  great  banquet  where  the  most  illustrious 
dignitaries  of  the  State  and  of  the  Church  were  assembled, 
he  not  very  decorously  filled  his  glass  to  the  confusion  of  all 
who  were  against  a  war  with  France.  He  would  indeed  most 
gladly  have  seen  his  country  united  with  the  powers  which 
were  then  combined  against  Lewis,  and  was  for  that  end  bent 
on  placing  Temple,  the  author  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  at  the 
head  of  the  department  which  directed  foreign  affairs.  But  the 
power  of  the  Prime  Minister  was  limited.  In  his  most  confi- 
dential letters  he  complained  that  the  infatuation  of  his  master 
prevented  England  from  taking  her  proper  place  among  Euro- 
pean nations.  Charles  was  insatiably  greedy  of  French  gold : 
he  had  by  no  means  relinquished  the  hope  that  he  might,  at 
some  future  day,  be  able  to  establish  absolute  monarchy  by  the 
help  of  the  French  arms ;  and  for  both  reasons  he  wished  to 
maintain  a  good  understanding  with  the  court  of  Versailles. 


214  HISTOEY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

Thus  the  sovereign  leaned  toward  one  system  of  foreign 
politics,  and  the,  minister  toward  a  system  diametrically  oppo- 
site. Neither  the  sovereign  nor  the  minister,  indeed,  was  of 
a  temper  to  pursue  any  object  with  undeviating  constancy. 
Each  occasionally  yielded  to  the  importunity  of  the  other; 
and  their  jarring  inclinations  and  mutual  concessions  gave 
to  the  whole  administration  a  strangely  capricious  character. 
Charles  sometimes,  from  levity  and  indolence,  suffered  Dan- 
by  to  take  steps  which  Lewis  resented  as  mortal  injuries. 
Danby,  on  the  other  hand,  rather  than  relinquish  his  great 
place,  sometimes  stooped  to  compliances  which  caused  him 
bitter  pain  and  shame.  The  King  was  brought  to  consent  to 
a  marriage  between  the  Lady  Mary,  eldest  daughter  and  pre- 
sumptive heiress  of  the  Duke  of  York,  and  William  of  Orange, 
the  deadly  enemy  of  France,  and  the  hereditary  champion  of 
the  Reformation.  Nay,  the  brave  Earl  of  Ossory,  son  of  Or- 
mond,  was  sent  to  assist  the  Dutch  with  some  British  troops, 
who,  on  the  most  bloody  day  of  the  whole  war,  signally  vin- 
dicated the  national  reputation  for  stubborn  courage.  The 
Treasurer,  on  the  other  hand,  was  induced,  not  only  to  con- 
nive at  some  scandalous  pecuniary  transactions  which  took 
place  between  his  master  and  the  court  of  Versailles,  but  to 
become,  unwillingly  indeed  and  ungraciously,  an  agent  in 
those  transactions. 

Meanwhile,  the  Country  party  was  driven  by  two  strong 

feelings   in   two    opposite  directions.     The   popular  leaders 

were  afraid  of  the  greatness  of  Lewis,  who  was  not 

Embarrassing  i         i  • 

situation  of  the  only  making  head  against  the  whole  strength  of 

Country  party.  J  &  &.     . 

the  continental  alliance,  but  was  even  gaming 
ground.  Yet  they  were  afraid  to  intrust  their  own  king 
with  the  means  of  curbing  France,  lest  those  means  should  be 
used  to  destroy  the  liberties  of  England.  The  conflict  be- 
tween these  apprehensions,  both  of  which  were  perfectly  legit- 
imate, made  the  policy  of  the  Opposition  seem  as  eccentric 
and  fickle  as  that  of  the  court.  The  Commons  called  for  a 
war  with  France,  till  the  King,  pressed  by  Danby  to  comply 
with  their  wish,  seemed  disposed  to  yield,  and  began  to  raise 
an  army.  But,  as  soon  as  they  saw  that  the  recruiting  had 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  215 

commenced,  their  dread  of  Lewis  gave  place  to  a  nearer  dread. 
They  began  to  fear  that  the  new  levies  might  be  employed 
on  a  service  in  which  Charles  took  much  more  interest  than 
in  the  defence  of  Flanders.  They  therefore  refused  supplies, 
and  clamored  for  disbanding  as  loudly  as  they  had  just  before 
clamored  for  arming.  Those  historians  who  have  severely 
reprehended  this  inconsistency  do  not  appear  to  have  made 
sufficient  allowance  for  the  embarrassing  situation  of  subjects 
who  have  reason  to  believe  that  their  prince  is  conspiring 
with  a  foreign  and  hostile  power  against  their  liberties.  To 
refuse  him  military  resources  is  to  leave  the  state  defenceless. 
Yet  to  give  him  military  resources  may  be  only  to  arm  him 
against  the  state.  In  such  circumstances,  vacillation  cannot 
be  considered  as  a  proof  of  dishonesty  or  even  of  weakness. 

These  jealousies  were  studiously  fomented  by  the  French 
King.  He  had  long  kept  England  passive  by  promising  to 
Dealings  of  support  the  throne  against  the  Parliament.  He 
totfrmtb?^  now,  alarmed  at  finding  that  the  patriotic  counsels 
embassy.  o£  Dan]yy;  seemed  likely  to  prevail  in  the  closet,  be- 
gan to  inflame  the  Parliament  against  the  throne.  Between 
Lewis  and  the  Country  party  there  was  one  thing,  and  one 
only,  in  common — profound  distrust  of  Charles.  Could  the 
Country  party  have  been  certain  that  their  sovereign  meant 
only  to  make  war  on  France,  they  would  have  been  eager  to 
support  him.  Could  Lewis  have  been  certain  that  the  new 
levies  were  intended  only  to  make  war  on  the  constitution  of 
England,  he  would  have  made  no  attempt  to  stop  them.  But 
the  unsteadiness  and  faithlessness  of  Charles  were  such  that 
the  French  government  and  the  English  opposition,  agreeing 
in  nothing  else,  agreed  in  disbelieving  his  protestations,  and 
were  equally  desirous  to  keep  him  poor  and  without  an  army. 
Communications  were  opened  between  Barillon,  the  ambassa- 
dor of  Lewis,  and  those  English  politicians  who  had  always 
professed,  and  who  indeed  sincerely  felt,  the  greatest  dread 
and  dislike  of  the  French  ascendency.  The  most  upright 
member  of  the  Country  party,  William  Lord  Russell,  son  of 
the  Earl  of  Bedford,  did  not  scruple  to  concert  with  a  foreign 
mission  schemes  for  embarrassing  his  own  sovereign.  This 


216  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  C:i.  II 

was  the  whole  extent  of  Russell's  offence.  His  principles  and 
his  fortune  alike  raised  him  above  all  temptations  of  a  sordid 
kind;  but  there  is  too  much  reason  to  believe  that  some  of 
his  associates  were  less  scrupulous.  It  would  be  unjust  to 
impute  to  them  the  extreme  wickedness  of  taking  bribes  to 
injure  their  country.  On  the  contrary,  they  meant  to  serve 
her :  but  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  they  were  mean  and  in- 
delicate enough  to  let  a  foreign  prince  pay  them  for  serving 
her.  Among  those  who  cannot  be  acquitted  of  this  degrad- 
ing charge  wras  one  man  who  is  popularly  considered  as  the 
personification  of  public  spirit,  and  who,  in  spite  of  some 
great  moral  and  intellectual  faults,  has  a  just  claim  to  be  called 
a  hero,  a  philosopher,  and  a  patriot.  It  is  impossible  to  see 
without  pain  such  a  name  in  the  list  of  the  pensioners  of 
France.  Yet  it  is  some  consolation  to  reflect  that,  in  our 
time,  a  public  man  would  be  thought  lost  to  all  sense  of  duty 
and  of  shame  who  should  not  spurn  from  him  a  temptation 
which  conquered  the  virtue  and  the  pride  of  Algernon  Sidney. 

The  effect  of  these  intrigues  was  that  England,  though  she 
occasionally  took  a  menacing  attitude,  remained  inactive  till 
peace  of  Ni-  the  continental  war,  having  lasted  near  seven  years, 
meguen.  wag  terminated  by  the  treaty  of  Nimeguen.  The 
United  Provinces,  which  in  1672  had  seemed  to  be  on  the 
verge  of  utter  ruin,  obtained  honorable  and  advantageous 
terms.  This  narrow  escape  was  generally  ascribed  to  the 
ability  and  courage  of  the  young  Stadtholder.  His  fame 
was  great  throughout  Europe,  and  especially  among  the  Eng- 
lish, who  regarded  him  as  one  of  their  own  princes,  and  re- 
joiced to  see  him  the  husband  of  their  future  queen.  France 
retained  many  important  towns  in  the  Low  Countries  and  the 
great  province  of  Franche  Comte'.  Almost  the  whole  loss 
was  borne  by  the  decaying  monarchy  of  Spain. 

A  few  months  after  the  termination  of  hostilities  on  the 
Continent  came  a  great  crisis  in  English  politics.  Toward 

violent  dis       suc^  ^  C1''IS>^  ^lino8  ^^  keen  tending  during  eigh- 

contents  in       teen  years.     The  whole  stock  of  popularity,  great 

as  it  was,  with  which  the  King  had  commenced  his 

administration,  had  long  been  expended.     To  loyal  enthusi- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  217 

asm  had  succeeded  profound  disaffection.  The  public  mind 
had  now  measured  back  again  the  space  over  which  it  had 
passed  between  1640  and  1660,  and  was  once  more  in  the 
state  in  which  it  had  been  when  the  Long  Parliament  met. 

The  prevailing  discontent  was  compounded  of  many  feel- 
ings. One  of  these  was  wounded  national  pride.  That  gen- 
eration had  seen  England,  during  a  few  years,  allied  on  equal 
terms  with  France,  victorious  over  Holland  and  Spain,  the 
mistress  of  the  sea,  the  terror  of  Rome,  the  head  of  the  Prot- 
estant interest.  Her  resources  had  not  diminished ;  and  it 
might  have  been  expected  that  she  would  have  been  at  least 
as  highly  considered  in  Europe  under  a  legitimate  king,  strong 
in  the  affection  and  willing  obedience  of  his  subjects,  as  she 
had  been  under  a  usurper  whose  utmost  vigilance  and  ener- 
gy were  required  to  keep  down  a  mutinous  people.  Yet  she 
had,  in  consequence  of  the  imbecility  and  meanness  of  her 
rulers,  sunk  so  low  that  any  German  or  Italian  principality 
which  brought  five  thousand  men  into  the  field  was  a  more 
important  member  of  the  commonwealth  of  nations. 

With  the  sense  of  national  humiliation  was  mingled  anxie- 
ty for  civil  liberty.  Rumors,  indistinct,  indeed,  but  perhaps 
the  more  alarming  by  reason  of  their  indistinctness,  imputed 
to  the  court  a  deliberate  design  against  all  the  constitutional 
rights  of  Englishmen.  It  had  even  been  whispered  that  this 
design  was  to  be  carried  into  effect  by  the  intervention  of  for- 
eign arms.  The  thought  of  such  intervention  made  the  blood, 
even  of  the  Cavaliers,  boil  in  their  veins.  Some  who  had  al- 
ways professed  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance  in  its  full  extent 
were  now  heard  to  mutter  that  there  was  one  limitation  to 
that  doctrine.  If  a  foreign  force  were  brought  over  to  coerce 
the  nation,  they  would  not  answer  for  their  own  patience. 

But  neither  national  pride  nor  anxiety  for  public  liberty 
had  so  great  an  influence  on  the  popular  mind  as  hatred  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  religion.  That  hatred  had  become  one 
of  the  ruling  passions  of  the  community,  and  was  as  strong  in 
the  ignorant  and  profane  as  in  those  who  were  Protestants 
from  conviction.  The  cruelties  of  Mary's  reign,  cruelties 
which,  even  in  the  most  accurate  and  sober  narrative,  excite 


218  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

just  detestation,  and  which  were  neither  accurately  nor  so- 
berly related  in  the  popular  rnartyrologies,  the  conspiracies 
against  Elizabeth,  and  above  all  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  had  left 
in  the  minds  of  the  vulgar  a  deep  and  bitter  feeling,  which 
was  kept  up  by  annual  commemorations,  prayers,  bonfires,  and 
processions.  It  should  be  added  that  those  classes  which  were 
peculiarly  distinguished  by  attachment  to  the  throne,  the  cler- 
gy and  the  landed  gentry,  had  peculiar  reasons  for  regarding 
the  Church  of  Rome  writh  aversion.  The  clergy  trembled  for 
their  benefices,  the  landed  gentry  for  their  abbeys  and  great 
tithes.  While  the  memory  of  the  reign  of  the  Saints  was  still 
recent,  hatred  of  Popery  had  in  some  degree  given  place  to 
hatred  of  Puritanism ;  but,  during  the  eighteen  years  which 
had  elapsed  since  the  Restoration,  the  hatred  of  Puritanism 
had  abated,  and  the  hatred  of  Popery  had  increased.  The 
stipulations  of  the  treaty  of  Dover  were  accurately  known  to 
very  few ;  but  some  hints  had  got  abroad.  The  general  im- 
pression was  that  a  great  blow  was  about  to  be  aimed  at  the 
Protestant  religion.  The  King  was  suspected  by  many  of  a 
leaning  toward  Rome.  His  brother  and  heir  presumptive 
was  known  to  be  a  bigoted  Roman  Catholic.  The  first  Duch- 
ess of  York  had  died  a  Roman  Catholic.  James  had  then, 
in  defiance  of  the  remonstrances  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
taken  to  wife  the  Princess  Mary  of  Modena,  another  Roman 
Catholic.  If  there  should  be  sons  by  this  marriage,  there 
was  reason  to  fear  that  they  inight  be  bred  Roman  Catholics, 
and  that  a  long  succession  of  princes  hostile  to  the  establish- 
ed faith  might  sit  on  the  English  throne.  The  constitution 
had  recently  been  violated  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  the 
Roman  Catholics  from  the  penal  laws.  The  ally  by  whom 
the  policy  of  England  had,  during  many  years,  been  chiefly 
governed  was  not  only  a  Roman  Catholic,  but  a  persecutor  of 
the  reformed  churches.  Under  such  circumstances  it  is  not 
strange  that  the  common  people  should  have  been  inclined 
to  apprehend  a  return  of  the  times  of  her  whom  they  called 
Bloody  Mary. 

Thus  the  nation  was  in  such  a  temper  that  the  smallest 
spark  might  raise  a  flame.     At  this  conjuncture  fire  was  set 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  219 

in  two  places  at  once  to  the  vast  mass  of  combustible  matter ; 
and  in  a  moment  the  whole  was  in  a  blaze. 

The  French  court,  which  knew  Danby  to  be  its  mortal  en- 
emy, artfully  contrived  to  ruin  him  by  making  him  pass  for 
its  friend.     Lewis,  by  the  instrumentality  of  Ralph 

Fall  of  Danby.  -11 

Montague,  a  faithless  and  shameless  man  who  had 
resided  in  France  as  minister  from  England,  laid  before  the 
House  of  Commons  proofs  that  the  Treasurer  had  been  con- 
cerned in  an  application  made  by  the  court  of  Whitehall  to 
the  court  of  Versailles  for  a  sum  of  money.  This  discovery 
produced  its  natural  effect.  The  Treasurer  was,  in  truth,  ex- 
posed to  the  vengeance  of  Parliament,  not  on  account  of  his 
delinquencies,  but  on  account  of  his  merits ;  not  because  he 
had  been  an  accomplice  in  a  criminal  transaction,  but  because 
he  had  been  a  most  unwilling  and  unserviceable  accomplice. 
But  of  the  circumstances,  which  have,  in  the  judgment  of  pos- 
terity, greatly  extenuated  his  fault,  his  contemporaries  were 
ignorant.  In  their  view  he  was  the  broker  who  had  sold  Eng- 
land to  France.  It  seemed  clear  that  his  greatness  was  at  an 
end,  and  doubtful  whether  his  head  could  be  saved. 

Yet  was  the  ferment  excited  by  this  discovery  slight,  when 
compared  with  the  commotion  which  arose  when  it  was  noised 
The  Popish  abroad  that  a  great  Popish  plot  had  been  detected. 
plot-  One  Titus  Gates,  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 

land, had,  by  his  disorderly  life  and  heterodox  doctrine,  drawn 
on  himself  the  censure  of  his  spiritual  superiors,  had  been  com- 
pelled to  quit  his  benefice,  and  had  ever  since  led  an  infamous 
and  vagrant  life.  He  had  once  professed  himself  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  had  passed  some  time  on  the  Continent  in  Eng- 
lish colleges  of  the  order  of  Jesus.  In  those  seminaries  he 
had  heard  much  wild  talk  about  the  best  means  of  bringing 
England  back  to  the  true  Church.  From  hints  thus  furnish- 
ed he  constructed  a  hideous  romance,  resembling  rather  the 
dream  of  a  sick  man  than  any  transaction  which  ever  took 
place  in  the  real  world.  The  Pope,  he  said,  had  intrusted  the 
government  of  England  to  the  Jesuits.  The  Jesuits  had,  by 
commissions  under  the  seal  of  their  society,  appointed  Roman 
Catholic  clergymen,  noblemen,  and  gentlemen,  to  all  the  high- 


220  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

est  offices  in  Church  and  State.  The  Papists  had  burned  down 
London  once.  They  had  tried  to  burn  it  down  again.  They 
were  at  that  moment  planning  a  scheme  for  setting  fire  to  all 
the  shipping  in  the  Thames.  They  were  to  rise  at  a  signal 
and  massacre  all  their  Protestant  neighbors.  A  French  army 
was  at  the  same  time  to  land  in  Ireland.  All  the  leading  states- 
men and  divines  of  England  were  to  be  murdered.  Three  or 
four  schemes  had  been  formed  for  assassinating  the  King. 
He  was  to  be  stabbed.  He  was  to  be  poisoned  in  his  medicine. 
He  was  to  be  shot  with  silver  bullets.  The  public  mind  was 
so  sore  and  excitable  that  these  lies  readily  found  credit  with 
the  vulgar ;  and  two  events  which  speedily  took  place  led  even 
some  reflecting  men  to  suspect  that  the  tale,  though  evidently 
distorted  and  exaggerated,  might  have  some  foundation. 

Edward  Coleman,  a  very  busy,  and  not  very  honest,  Ro- 
man Catholic  intriguer,  had  been  among  the  persons  accused. 
Search  was  made  for  his  papers.  It  was  found  that  he  had 
just  destroyed  the  greater  part  of  them.  But  a  few  which 
had  escaped  contained  some  passages  such  as,  to  minds  strong- 
ly prepossessed,  might  seem  to  confirm  the  evidence  of  Gates. 
Those  passages,  indeed,  when  candidly  construed,  appear  to 
express  little  more  than  the  hopes  which  the  posture  of  af- 
fairs, the  predilections  of  Charles,  the  still  stronger  predilec- 
tions of  James,  and  the  relations  existing  between  the  French 
and  English  courts,  might  naturally  excite  in  the  mind  of  a  Ro- 
man Catholic  strongly  attached  to  the  interests  of  his  Church. 
But  the  country  was  not  then  inclined  to  construe  the  letters 
of  Papists  candidly ;  and  it  was  urged,  with  some  show  of  rea- 
son, that,  if  papers  which  had  been  passed  over  as  unimportant 
were  filled  with  matter  so  suspicious,  some  great  mystery  of 
iniquity  must  have  been  contained  in  those  documents  which 
had  been  carefully  committed  to  the  flames. 

A  few  days  later  it  was  known  that  Sir  Edmondsbury  God- 
frey, an  eminent  justice  of  the  peace  who  had  taken  the  dep- 
ositions of  Gates  against  Coleman,  had  disappeared.  Search 
was  made,  and  Godfrey's  corpse  was  found  in  a  field  near 
London.  It  was  clear  that  he  had  died  by  violence.  It  was 
equally  clear  that  he  had  not  been  set  upon  by  robbers.  His 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  221 

fate  is  to  this  day  a  secret.  Some  think  that  he  perished  by 
his  own  hand;  some,  that  he  was  slain  by  a  private  enemy. 
The  most  improbable  supposition  is  that  he  was  murdered  by 
the  party  hostile  to  the  court,  in  order  to  give  color  to  the 
story  of  the  plot.  The  most  probable  supposition  seems,  on 
the  whole,  to  be  that  some  hot-headed  Roman  Catholic,  driven 
to  frenzy  by  the  lies  of  Gates  and  by  the  insults  of  the  multi- 
tude, and  not  nicely  distinguishing  between  the  perjured  ac- 
cuser and  the  innocent  magistrate,  had  taken  a  revenge  of 
which  the  history  of  persecuted  sects  furnishes  but  too  many 
examples.  If  this  were  so,  the  assassin  must  have  afterward 
bitterly  execrated  his  own  wickedness  and  folly.  The  capital 
and  the  whole  nation  went  mad  with  hatred  and  fear.  The 
penal  laws,  which  had  begun  to  lose  something  of  their  edge, 
were  sharpened  anew.  Everywhere  justices  were  busied  in 
searching  houses  and  seizing  papers.  All  the  jails  were  filled 
with  Papists.  London  had  the  aspect  of  a  city  in  a  state  of 
siege.  The  trainbands  were  under  arms  all  night.  Prepara- 
tions were  made  for  barricading  the  great  thoroughfares.  Pa- 
trols marched  up  and  down  the  streets.  Cannon  were  planted 
round  Whitehall.  No  citizen  thought  himself  safe  unless  he 
carried  under  his  coat  a  small  flail  loaded  with  lead  to  brain 
the  Popish  assassins.  The  corpse  of  the  murdered  magistrate 
was  exhibited  during  several  days  to  the  gaze  of  great  multi- 
tudes, and  was  then  committed  to  the  grave  with  strange  and 
terrible  ceremonies,  which  indicated  rather  fear  and  the  thirst 
of  vengeance  than  sorrow  or  religious  hope.  The  Houses  in- 
sisted that  a  guard  should  be  placed  in  the  vaults  over  which 
they  sat,  in  order  to  secure  them  against  a  second  Gunpowder 
Plot.  All  their  proceedings  were  of  a  piece  with  this  demand. 
Ever  since  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  the  oath  of  supremacy  had 
been  exacted  from  members  of  the  House  of  Commons.  Some 
Roman  Catholics,  however,  had  contrived  so  to  interpret  this 
oath  that  they  could  take  it  without  scruple.  A  more  strin- 
gent test  was  now  added :  every  Member  of  Parliament  was 
required  to  make  the  Declaration  against  Transubstantiation ; 
and  thus  the  Roman  Catholic  Lords  were  for  the  first  time 
excluded  from  their  seats.  Strong  resolutions  were  adopted 


222  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

against  the  Queen.  The  Commons  threw  one  of  the  secreta- 
ries of  state  into  prison  for  having  countersigned  commissions 
directed  to  gentlemen  who  were  not  good  Protestants.  They 
impeached  the  Lord  Treasurer  of  high-treason.  Nay,  they  so 
far  forgot  the  doctrine  which,  while  the  memory  of  the  civil 
war  was  still  recent,  they  had  loudly  professed,  that  they  even 
attempted  to  wrest  the  command  of  the  militia  out  of  the 
King's  hands.  To  such  a  temper  had  eighteen  years  of  mis- 
government  brought  the  most  loyal  Parliament  that  had  ever 
met  in  England. 

Yet  it  may  seem  strange  that,  even  in  that  extremity,  the 
King  should  have  ventured  to  appeal  to  the  people ;  for  the 
people  were  more  excited  than  their  representatives.  The 
Lower  House,  discontented  as  it  was,  contained  a  larger  num- 
ber of  Cavaliers  than  were  likely  to  find  seats  again.  But  it 
was  thought  that  a  dissolution  would  put  a  stop  to  the  prose- 
cution of  the  Lord  Treasurer,  a  prosecution  which  might  prob- 
ably bring  to  light  all  the  guilty  mysteries  of  the  French  alli- 
ance, and  might  thus  cause  extreme  personal  annoyance  and 
embarrassment  to  Charles.  Accordingly,  in  January,  1679, 
the  Parliament,  which  had  been  in  existence  ever  since  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1661,  was  dissolved ;  and  writs  were  is- 
sued for  a  general  election. 

During  some  weeks  the  contention  over  the  whole  country 

was  fierce  and  obstinate  beyond   example.     Unprecedented 

sums  were  expended.     New  tactics  were  employed. 

First  general 

election  of  It  was  remarked  by  the  pamphleteers  of  that  time 
as  something  extraordinary  that  horses  were  hired 
at  a  great  charge  for  the  conveyance  of  electors.  The  prac- 
tice of  splitting  freeholds  for  the  purpose  of  multiplying  votes 
dates  from  this  memorable  struggle.  Dissenting  preachers, 
who  had  long  hidden  themselves  in  quiet  nooks  from  persecu- 
tion, now  emerged  from  their  retreats,  and  rode  from  village 
to  village,  for  the  purpose  of  rekindling  the  zeal  of  the  scat- 
tered people  of  God.  The  tide  ran  strong  against  the  gov- 
ernment. Most  of  the  new  members  came  up  to  Westminster 
in  a  mood  little  differing  from  that  of  their  predecessors  who 
had  sent  Strafford  and  Laud  to  the  Tower. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  223 

Meanwhile  the  courts  of  justice,  which  ought  to  be,  in  the 
midst  of  political  commotions,  sure  places  of  refuge  for  the 
innocent  of  every  party,  were  disgraced  by  wilder  passions  and 
fouler  corruptions  than  were  to  be  found  even  on  the  hust- 
ings. The  tale  of  Gates,  though  it  had  sufficed  to  convulse 
the  whole  realm,  would  not,  unless  confirmed  by  other  evi- 
dence, suffice  to  destroy  the  humblest  of  those  whom  he  had 
accused.  For,  by  the  old  law  of  England,  two  witnesses  are 
necessary  to  establish  a  charge  of  treason.  But  the  success  of 
the  first  impostor  produced  its  natural  consequences.  In  a 
few  weeks  he  had  been  raised  from  penury  and  obscurity  to 
opulence,  to  power  which  made  him  the  dread  of  princes  and 
nobles,  and  to  notoriety  such  as  has  for  low  and  bad  minds 
all  the  attractions  of  glory.  He  was  not  long  without  coadju- 
tors and  rivals.  A  wretch  named  Carstairs,  who  had  earned  a 
livelihood  in  Scotland  by  going  disguised  to  conventicles  and 
then  informing  against  the  preachers,  led  the  way.  Bedloe, 
a  noted  swindler,  followed ;  and  soon,  from  all  the  brothels, 
gambling-houses,  and  spunging-houses  of  London,  false  wit- 
nesses poured  forth  to  swear  away  the  lives  of  Roman  Catho- 
lics. One  came  with  a  story  about  an  army  of  thirty  thou- 
sand men  who  were  to  muster  in  the  disguise  of  pilgrims 
at  Corunna,  and  to  sail  thence  to  Wales.  Another  had  been 
promised  canonization  and  five  hundred  pounds  to  murder 
the  King.  A  third  had  stepped  into  an  eating-house  in  Cov- 
ent  Garden,  and  had  there  heard  a  great  Roman  Catholic 
banker  vow,  in  the  hearing  of  all  the  guests  and  drawers,  to 
kill  the  heretical  tyrant.  Gates,  that  he  might  not  be  eclipsed 
by  his  imitators,  soon  added  a  large  supplement  to  his  origi- 
nal narrative.  He  had  the  portentous  impudence  to  affirm, 
among  other  things,  that  he  had  once  stood  behind  a  door 
which  was  ajar,  and  had  there  overheard  the  Queen  declare 
that  she  had  resolved  to  give  her  consent  to  the  assassination 
of  her  husband.  The  vulgar  believed,  and  the  highest  magis- 
trates pretended  to  believe,  even  such  fictions  as  these.  The 
chief  judges  of  the  realm  were  corrupt,  cruel,  and  timid. 
The  leaders  of  the  Country  party  encouraged  the  prevailing 
delusion.  The  most  respectable  among  them,  indeed,  were 


224  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

themselves  so  far  deluded  as  to  believe  the  greater  part  of  the 
evidence  of  the  plot  to  be  true.  Such  men  as  Shaftesburv 
and  Buckingham  doubtless  perceived  that  the  whole  was  a 
romance.  But  it  was  a  romance  which  served  their  turn ; 
and  to  their  seared  consciences  the  death  of  an  innocent  man 
gave  no  more  uneasiness  than  the  death  of  a  partridge.  The 
juries  partook  of  the  feelings  then  common  throughout  the 
nation,  and  were  encouraged  by  the  bench  to  indulge  those 
feelings  without  restraint.  The  multitude  applauded  Gates 
and  his  confederates,  hooted  and  pelted  the  witnesses  who  ap- 
peared on  behalf  of  the  accused,  and  shouted  with  joy  when 
the  verdict  of  Guilty  was  pronounced.  It  was  in  vain  that 
the  sufferers  appealed  to  the  respectability  of  their  past  lives : 
for  the  public  mind  was  possessed  with  a  belief  that  the  more 
conscientious  a  Papist  was,  the  more  likely  he  must  be  to  plot 
against  a  Protestant  government.  It  was  in  vain  that,  just 
before  the  cart  passed  from  under  their  feet,  they  resolutely 
affirmed  their  innocence :  for  the  general  opinion  was  that  a 
good  Papist  considered  all  lies  which  were  serviceable  to  his 
Church  as  not  only  excusable,  but  meritorious.' 

While  innocent  blood  was  shedding  under  the  forms  of  jus- 
tice, the  new  Parliament  met ;  and  such  was  the  violence  of 
the  predominant  party  that  even  men  whose  youth 

Violence  of  the  r  ••.  -. 

new  House  of    had  been  passed  amidst  revolutions,  men  who  re- 

Commons.  x  .  <•    n         _«       i       i 

membered  the  attainder  of  Strafford,  the  attempt 
on  the  five  members,  the  abolition  of  the  House  of  Lords,  the 
execution  of  the  King,  stood  aghast  at  the  aspect  of  public  af- 
fairs. The  impeachment  of  Danby  was  resumed.  He  plead- 
ed the  royal  pardon.  But  the  Commons  treated  the  plea  with 
contempt,  and  insisted  that  the  trial  should  proceed.  Danby, 
however,  was  not  their  chief  object.  They  were  convinced 
that  the  only  effectual  way  of  securing  the  liberties  and  re- 
ligion of  the  nation  was  to  exclude  the  Duke  of  York  from 
the  throne. 

The  King  was  in  great  perplexity.  He  had  insisted  that 
his  brother,  the  sight  of  whom  inflamed  the  populace  to  mad- 
ness, should  retire  for  a  time  to  Brussels :  but  this  concession 
did  not  seem  to  have  produced  any  favorable  effect.  The 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  225 

Roundhead  party  was  now  decidedly  preponderant.  Toward 
that  party  leaned  millions  who  had,  at  the  time  of  the  Res- 
toration, leaned  toward  the  side  of  prerogative.  Of  the  old 
Cavaliers  many  participated  in  the  prevailing  fear  of  Popery, 
and  many,  bitterly  resenting  the  ingratitude  of  the  prince  for 
whom  they  had  sacrificed  so  much,  looked  on  his  distress  as 
carelessly  as  he  had  looked  on  theirs.  Even  the  Anglican 
clergy,  mortified  and  alarmed  by  the  apostasy  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  so  far  countenanced  the  opposition  as  to  join  cordially 
in  the  outcry  against  the  Roman  Catholics. 

The  King  in  this  extremity  had  recourse  to  Sir  William 
Temple.  Of  all  the  official  men  of  that  age  Temple  had  pre- 
Tempie's  plan  served  the  fairest  character.  The  Triple  Alliance 

ofgovernment.    ha(J   beeR   ]lig   WQrk>       j£e    had   refuged   to    take    any 

part  in  the  politics  of  the  Cabal,  and  had,  while  that  adminis- 
tration directed  affairs,  lived  in  strict  privacy.  He  had  quit- 
ted his  retreat  at  the  call  of  Danby,  had  made  peace  between 
England  and  Holland,  and  had  borne  a  chief  part  in  bringing 
about  the  marriage  of  the  Lady  Mary  to  her  cousin  the  Prince 
of  Orange.  Thus  he  had  the  credit  of  every  one  of  the  few 
good  things  which  had  been  done  by  the  government  since 
the  Restoration.  Of  the  numerous  crimes  and  blunders  of 
the  last  eighteen  years  none  could  be  imputed  to  him.  His 
private  life,  though  not  austere,  was  decorous ;  his  manners 
were -popular ;  and  he  was  not  to  be  corrupted  either  by  titles 
or  by  money.  Something,  however,  was  wanting  to  the  char- 
acter of  this  respectable  statesman.  The  temperature  of  his 
patriotism  was  lukewarm.  He  prized  his  ease  and  his  per- 
sonal dignity  too  much,  and  shrank  fronr  responsibility  with 
a  pusillanimous  fear.  Nor  indeed  had  his  habits  fitted  him 
to. bear  a  part  in  the  conflicts  of  our  domestic  factions.  He 
had  reached  his  fiftieth  year  without  having  sat  in  the  English 
Parliament ;  and  his  official  experience  had  been  almost  en- 
tirely acquired  at  foreign  courts.  He  was  justly  esteemed 
one  of  the  first  diplomatists  in  Europe :  but  the  talents  and 
accomplishments  of  a  diplomatist  are  widely  different  from 
those  which  qualify  a  politician  to  lead  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  agitated  times. 
L— 15  ~ 


226  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II 

The  scheme  which  he  proposed  showed  considerable  inge- 
nuity. Though  not  a  profound  philosopher,  he  had  thought 
more  than  most  busy  men  of  the  world  on  the  general  princi- 
ples of  government ;  and  his  mind  had  been  enlarged  by  his- 
torical studies  and  foreign  travel.  He  seems  to  have  discern- 
ed more  clearly  than  most  of  his  contemporaries  one  cause  of 
the  difficulties  by  which  the  government  was  beset.  The  char- 
acter of  the  English  polity  was  gradually  changing.  The  Par- 
liament was  slowly,  but  constantly,  gaining  ground  on  the  pre- 
rogative. The  line  between  the  legislative  and  executive  pow- 
ers was  in  theory  as  strongly  marked  as  ever,  but  in  practice 
was  daily  becoming  fainter  and  fainter.  The  theory  of  the 
constitution  was  that  the  King  might  name  his  own  ministers. 
But  the  House  of  Commons  had  driven  Clarendon,  the  Cabal, 
and  Danby  successively  from  the  direction  of  affairs.  The 
theory  of  the  constitution  was  that  the  King  alone  had  the 
power  of  making  peace  and  war.  But  the  House  of  Com- 
mons had  forced  him  to  make  peace  with  Holland,  and  had 
all  but  forced  him  to  make  war  with  France.  The  theory  of 
the  constitution  was  that  the  King  was  the  sole  judge  of  the 
cases  in  which  it  might  be  proper  to  pardon  offenders.  Yet 
he  was  so  much  in  dread  of  the  House  of  Commons  that,  at 
that  moment,  he  could  not  venture  to  rescue  from  the  gal- 
lows men  whom  he  well  knew  to  be  the  innocent  victims  of 
perjury. 

Temple,  it  should  seem,  was  desirous  to  secure  to  the  legis- 
lature its  undoubted  constitutional  powers,  and  yet  to  prevent 
it,  if  possible,  from  encroaching  further  on  the  province  of 
the  executive  administration.  With  this  view  he  determined 
to  interpose  between  the  sovereign  and  the  Parliament  a  body 
which  might  break  the  shock  of  their  collision.  There  was 
a  body,  ancient,  highly  honorable,  and  recognized  by  the  law, 
which,  he  thought,  might  be  so  remodelled  as  to  serve  this 
purpose.  He  determined  to  give  to  the  Privy  Council  a  new 
character  and  office  in  the  government.  The  number  of  coun- 
cillors he  fixed  at  thirty.  Fifteen  of  them  were  to  be  the 
chief  ministers  of  state,  of  law,  and  of  religion.  The  other 
fifteen  were  to  be  unplaced  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  am- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  227 

pie  fortune  and  high  character.  There  was  to  be  no  interior 
cabinet.  All  the  thirty  were  to  be  intrusted  with  every  polit- 
ical secret,  and  summoned  to  every  meeting;  and  the  King 
was  to  declare  that  he  would,  on  every  occasion,  be  guided  by 
their  advice. 

Temple  seems  to  have  thought  that,  by  this  contrivance, 
he  could  at  once  secure  the  nation  against  the  tyranny  of  the 
crown,  and  the  crown  against  the  encroachments  of  the  Par- 
liament. It  was,  on  one  hand,  highly  improbable  that  schemes 
such  as  had  been  formed  by  the  Cabal  would  be  even  pro- 
pounded for  discussion  in  an  assembly  consisting  of  thirty 
eminent  men,  fifteen  of  whom  were  bound  by  no  tie  of  inter- 
est to  the  court.  On  the  other  hand,  it  might  be  hoped  that 
the  Commons,  content  with  the  guarantee  against  misgov- 
ernment  which  such  a  privy  council  furnished,  would  con- 
fine themselves  more  than  they  had  of  late  done  to  their 
strictly  legislative  functions,  and  would  no  longer  think  it 
necessary  to  pry  into  every  part  of  the  executive  administra- 
tion. 

This  plan,  though  in  some  respects  not  unworthy  of  the 
abilities  of  its  author,  was  in  principle  vicious.  The  new 
board  was  half  a  cabinet  and  half  a  parliament,  and,  like  al- 
most every  other  contrivance,  whether  mechanical  or  politi- 
cal, which  is  meant  to  serve  two  purposes  altogether  different, 
failed  of  accomplishing  either.  It  was  too  large  and  too  di- 
vided to  be  a  g6od  administrative  body.  It  was  too  closely 
connected  with  the  crown  to  be  a  good  checking  body.  It 
contained  just  enough  of  popular  ingredients  to  make  it  a 
bad  council  of  state,  unfit  for  the  keeping  of  secrets,  for  the 
conducting  of  delicate  negotiations,  and  for  the  administra- 
tion of  war.  Yet  were  these  popular  ingredients  by  no  means 
sufficient  to  secure  the  nation  against  misgovernment.  The 
plan,  therefore,  even  if  it  had  been  fairly  tried,  could  scarce- 
ly have  succeeded ;  and  it  was  not  fairly  tried.  The  King 
was  fickle  and  perfidious:  the  Parliament  was  excited  and 
unreasonable  ;  and  the  materials  out  of  which  the  new  Coun- 
cil was  made,  though  perhaps  the  best  which  that  age  afford- 
ed, were  still  bad. 


228  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

The  commencement  of  the  new  system  was,  however,  hail- 
ed with  general  delight ;  for  the  people  were  in  a  temper  to 
think  any  change  an  improvement.  They  were  also  pleased 
by  some  of  the  new  nominations.  Shaftesbury,  now  their  fa- 
vorite, was  appointed  Lord  President.  Russell  and  some  oth- 
er distinguished  members  of  the  Country  party  were  sworn 
of  the  Council.  But  a  few  days  later  all  was  again  in  confu- 
sion. The  inconveniences  of  having  so  numerous  a  cabinet 
were  such  that  Temple  himself  consented  to  infringe  one  of 
the  fundamental  rules  which  he  had  laid  down,  and  to  become 
one  of  a  small  knot  which  really  directed  everything.  With 
him  were  joined  three  other  ministers,  Arthur  Capel,  Earl  of 
Essex,  George  Savile,  Viscount  Halifax,  and  Robert  Spencer, 
Earl  of  Sunderland. 

Of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  then  First  Commissioner  of  the  Treas- 
ury, it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  he  was  a  man  of  solid  though 
not  brilliant  parts,  and  of  grave  and  melancholy  character, 
that  he  had  been  connected  with  the  Country  party,  and 
that  he  was  at  this  time  honestly  desirous  to  effect,  on  terms 
beneficial  to  the  state,  a  reconciliation  between  that  party  and 
the  throne. 

Among  the  statesmen  of  those  times  Halifax  was,  in  genius, 
the  first.  His  intellect  was  fertile,  subtle,  and  capacious.  His 
character  of  polished,  luminous,  and  animated  eloquence,  set  off 
Halifax.  ^  ^e  giiver  tones  of  his  voice,  was  the  delight 
of  the  House  of  Lords.  His  conversation  overflowed  with 
thought,  fancy,  and  wit.  His  political  tracts  well  deserve  to 
be  studied  for  their  literary  merit,  and  fully  entitle  him  to 
a  place  among  English  classics.  To  the  weight  derived  from 
talents  so  great  and  various  he  united  all  the  influence  which 
belongs  to  rank  and  ample  possessions.  Yet  he  was  less  suc- 
cessful in  politics  than  many  who  enjoyed  smaller  advantages. 
Indeed,  those  intellectual  peculiarities  which  make  his  writ- 
ings valuable  frequently  impeded  him  in  the  contests  of  ac- 
tive life.  For  he  always  saw  passing  events,  not  in  the  point 
of  view  in  which  they  commonly  appear  to  one  who  bears  a 
part  in  them,  but  in  the  point  of  view  in  which,  after  the 
lapse  of  many  years,  they  appear  to  the  philosophic  historian. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  229 

With  such  a  turn  of  "mind,  he  could  not  long  continue  to 
act  cordially  with  any  body  of  men.  All  the  prejudices,  all 
the  exaggerations,  of  both  the  great  parties  in  the  state  moved 
his  scorn.  He  despised  the  mean  arts  and  unreasonable  clam- 
ors of  demagogues.  He  despised  still  more  the  doctrines  of 
divine  right  and  passive  obedience.  He  sneered  impartially 
at  the  bigotry  of  the  Churchman  and  at  the  bigotry  of  the 
Puritan.  He  was  equally  unable  to  comprehend  how  any 
man  should  object  to  Saints'  days  and  surplices,  and  how  any 
man  should  persecute  any  other  man  for  objecting  to  them. 
In  temper  he  was  what,  in  our  time,  is  called  a  Conservative : 
in  theory  he  was  a  Republican.  Even  wrhen  his  dread  of  an- 
archy and  his  disdain  for  vulgar  delusions  led  him  to  side  for 
a  time  with  the  defenders  of  arbitrary  power,  his  intellect  was 
always  with  Locke  and  Milton.  Indeed,  his  jests  upon  hered- 
itary monarchy  were  sometimes  such  as  would  have  better  be- 
come a  member  of  the  Calf's  Head  Club  than  a  privy  coun- 
cillor of  the  Stuarts.  In  religion  he  was  so  far  from  being 
a  zealot  that  he  was  called  by  the  uncharitable  an  atheist: 
but  this  imputation  he  vehemently  repelled  ;  and  in  truth, 
though  he  sometimes  gave  scandal  by  the  way  in  which  he 
exerted  his  rare  powers  both  of  reasoning  and  of  ridicule  on 
serious  subjects,  he  seems  to  have  been  by  no  means  unsus- 
ceptible of  religious  impressions. 

He  was  the  chief  of  those  politicians  whom  the  two  great 
parties  contemptuously  called  Trimmers.  Instead  of  quarrel- 
ling with  this  nickname,  he  assumed  it  as  a  title  of  honor,  and 
vindicated,  with  great  vivacity,  the  dignity  of  the  appellation. 
Everything  good,  he  said,  trims  between  extremes.  The  tem- 
perate zone  trims  between  the  climate  in  which  men  are  roast- 
ed and  the  climate  in  which  they  are  frozen.  The  English 
Church  trims  between  the  Anabaptist  madness  and  the  Pa- 
pist lethargy.  The  English  constitution  trims  between  Turk- 
ish despotism  and  Polish  anarchy.  Virtue  is  nothing  but  a 
just  temper  between  propensities  any  one  of  which,  if  indulged 
to  excess,  becomes  vice.  Nay,  the  perfection  of  the  Supreme 
Being  himself  consists  in  the  exact  equilibrium  of  attributes, 
none  of  which  could  preponderate  without  disturbing  the 


230  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  IL 

whole  moral  and  physical  order  of  the  world.*  Tims  Hali- 
fax was  a  Trimmer  on  principle.  He  was  also  a  Trimmer  by 
the  constitution  both  of  his  head  and  of  his  heart.  His  un- 
derstanding was  keen,  skeptical,  inexhaustibly  fertile  in  dis- 
tinctions and  objections;  his  taste  refined;  his  sense  of  the 
ludicrous  exquisite ;  his  temper  placid  and  forgiving,  but  fas- 
tidious, and  by  no  means  prone  either  to  malevolence  or  to 
enthusiastic  admiration.  Such  a  man  could  not  long  be  con- 
stant to  any  band  of  political  allies.  He  must  not,  however, 
be  confounded  with  the  vulgar  crowd  of  renegades.  For 
though,  like  them,  he  passed  from  side  to  side,  his  transition 
was  always  in  the  direction  opposite  to  theirs.  He  had  noth- 
ing in  common  with  those  who  fly  from  extreme  to  extreme, 
and  who  regard  the  party  which  they  have  deserted  with  an 
animosity  far  exceeding  that  of  consistent  enemies.  His  place 
was  on  the  debatable  ground  between  the  hostile  divisions  of 
the  community,  and  he  never  wandered  far  beyo'nd  the  fron- 
tier of  either.  The  party  to  which  he  at  any  moment  be- 
longed was  the  party  which,  at  that  moment,  he  liked  least, 
because  it  was  the  party  of  which,  at  that  moment,  he  had  the 
nearest  view.  He  was,  therefore,  always  severe  upon  his  vio- 
lent associates,  and  was  always  in  friendly  relations  with  his 
moderate  opponents.  Every  faction  in  the  day  of  its  insolent 
and  vindictive  triumph  incurred  his  censure ;  and  every  fac- 
tion, when  vanquished  and  persecuted,  found  in  him  a  pro- 
tector. To  his  lasting  honor  it  must  be  mentioned  that  he 
attempted  to  save  those  victims  whose  fate  has  left  the  deep- 
est stain  both  on  the  Whig  and  on  the  Tory  name. 

He  had  greatly  distinguished  himself  in  opposition,  and 
had  thus  drawn  on  himself  the  royal  displeasure,  which  was, 
indeed,  so  strong  that  he  was  not  admitted  into  the  Council 
of  Thirty  without  much  difficulty  and  long  altercation.  As 
soon,  however,  as  he  had  obtained  a  footing  at  court,  the 
charms  of  his  manner  and  of  his  conversation  made  him  a 
favorite.  He  was  seriously  alarmed  by  the  violence  of  the 


*  Halifax  was  undoubtedly  the  real  author  of  the  Character  of  a  Trimmer, 
which,  for  a  time,  went  under  the  name  of  his  kinsman,  Sir  William  Coventry. 


Cn.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  231 

public  discontent.  He  thought  that  liberty  was  for  the  pres- 
ent safe,  and  that  order  and  legitimate  authority  were  in  dan- 
ger. He  therefore,  as  was  his  fashion,  joined  himself  to  the 
weaker  side.  Perhaps  his  conversion  was  not  wholly  disin- 
terested. For  study  and  reflection,  though  they  had  emanci- 
pated him  from  many  vulgar  prejudices,  had  left  him  a  slave 
to  vulgar  desires.  Money  he  did  not  want ;  and  there  is  no 
evidence  that  he  ever  obtained  it  by  any  means  which,  in  that 
age,  even  severe  censors  considered  as  dishonorable ;  but  rank 
and  power  had  strong  attractions  for  him.  He  pretended,  in- 
deed, that  he  considered  titles  and  great  offices  as  baits  which 
could  allure  none  but  fools,  that  he  hated  business,  pomp,  and 
pageantry,  and  that  his  dearest  wish  was  to  escape  from  the 
bustle  and  glitter  of  Whitehall  to  the  quiet  woods  which  sur- 
rounded his  ancient  mansion  in  Nottinghamshire ;  but  his  con- 
duct was  not  a  little  at  variance  with  his  professions.  In  truth, 
he  wished  to  command  the  respect  at  once  of  courtiers  and  of 
philosophers ;  to  be  admired  for  attaining  high  dignities,  and 
to  be  at  the  same  time  admired  for  despising  them. 

Sunderland  was  Secretary  of  State.  In  this  man  the  polit- 
ical immorality  of  his  age  was  personified  in  the  most  lively 
character  of  manner.  Nature  had  given  him  a  keen  under- 
sunderiand.  standing,  a  restless  and  mischievous  temper,  a  cold 
heart,  and  an  abject  spirit.  His  mind  had  undergone  a  train- 
ing by  which  all  his  vices  had  been  nursed  up  to  the  rankest 
maturity.  At  his  entrance  into  public  life,  he  had  passed  sev- 
eral years  in  diplomatic  posts  abroad,  and  had  been,  during 
some  time,  minister  in  France.  Every  calling  has  its  peculiar 
temptations.  There  is  no  injustice  in  saying  that  diploma- 
tists, as  a  class,  have  always  been  more  distinguished  by  their 
address,  by  the  art  with  which  they  win  the  confidence  of 
those  with  whom  they  have  to  deal,  and  by  the  ease  with 
which  they  catch  the  tone  of  every  society  into  which  they 
are  admitted,  than  by  generous  enthusiasm  or  austere  recti- 
tude ;  and  the  relations  between  Charles  and  Lewis  were  such 
that  no  English  nobleman  could  long  reside  in  France  as  en- 
voy, and  retain  any  patriotic  or  honorable  sentiment.  Sun- 
derland came  forth  from  the  bad  school  in  which  he  had  been 


232  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

brought  up,  cunning,  supple,  shameless,  free  from  all  preju- 
dices, and  destitute  of  all  principles.  He  was,  by  hereditary 
connection,  a  Cavalier ;  but  with  the  Cavaliers  he  had  noth- 
ing in  common.  They  were  zealous  for  monarchy,  and  con- 
demned in  theory  all  resistance.  Yet  they  had  sturdy  Eng- 
lish hearts  which  would  never  have  endured  real  despotism. 
He,  on  the  contrary,  had  a  languid  speculative  liking  for  re- 
publican institutions,  which  was  compatible  with  perfect  readi- 
ness to  be  in  practice  the  most  servile  instrument  of  arbitrary 
power.  Like  many  other  accomplished  flatterers  and  nego- 
tiators, he  was  far  more  skilful  in  the  art  of  reading  the  char- 
acters and  practising  on  the  weaknesses  of  individuals,  than  in 
the  art  of  discerning  the  feelings  of  great  masses,  and  of  fore- 
seeing the  approach  of  great  revolutions.  He  was  adroit  in 
intrigue ;  and  it  was  difficult  even  for  shrewd  and  experienced 
men  who  had  been  amply  forewarned  of  his  perfidy  to  with- 
stand the  fascination  of  his  manner,  and  to  refuse  credit  to 
his  professions  of  attachment.  But  he  was  so  intent  on  ob- 
serving and  courting  particular  persons,  that  he  often  forgot 
to  study  the  temper  of  the  nation.  He  therefore  miscalcu- 
lated grossly  with  respect  to  some  of  the  most  momentous 
events  of  his  time.  More  than  one  important  movement  and 
rebound  of  the  public  mind  took  him  by  surprise ;  and  the 
world,  unable  to  understand  how  so  clever  a  man  could  be 
blind  to  what  was  clearly  discerned  by  the  politicians  of  the 
coffee-houses,  sometimes  attributed  to  deep  design  what  were 
in  truth  mere  blunders. 

It  was  only  in  private  conference  that  his  eminent  abilities 
displayed  themselves.  In  the  royal  closet,  or  in  a  very  small 
circle,  he  exercised  great  influence.  But  at  the  Council  board 
he  was  taciturn  ;  and  in  the  House  of  Lords  he  never  opened 
his  lips. 

The  four  confidential  advisers  of  the  crown  soon  found  that 
their  position  was  embarrassing  and  invidious.  The  other 
members  of  the  Council  murmured  at  a  distinction  incon- 
sistent with  the  King's  promises ;  and  some  of  them,  with 
Shaftesbury  at  their  head,  again  betook  themselves  to  strenu- 
ous opposition  in  Parliament.  The  agitation,  which  had  been 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  233 

suspended  by  the  late  changes,  speedily  became  more  violent 
than  ever.  It  was  in  vain  that  Charles  offered  to  grant  to 
the  Commons  any  security  for  the  Protestant  religion  which 
they  could  devise,  provided  only  that  they  would  not  touch 
the  order  of  succession.  They  would  hear  of  no  compromise. 
They  would  have  the  Exclusion  Bill,  and  nothing  but  the  Ex- 
clusion Bill.  The  King,  therefore,  a  few  weeks  after  he  had 
publicly  promised  to  take  no  step  without  the  advice  of  his 
new  council,  went  down  to  the  House  of  Lords  without  men- 
tioning his  intention  in  council,  and  prorogued  the  Par- 
liament. 

The  day  of  that  prorogation,  the  twenty-sixth  of  May,  1679, 

is  a  great  era  in  our  history.     For  on  that  day  the  Habeas 

Corpus  Act  received  the  royal  assent.     From  the 

Prorogation  of       .       A  * 

the  Pariia-  time  of  the  Great  Charter,  the  substantive  law  re- 
specting the  personal  liberty  of  Englishmen  had 
been  nearly  the  same  as  at  present :  but  it  had  been  ineffica- 
cious for  want  of  a  stringent  system  of  procedure.  What  was 
needed  was  not  a  new  right,  but  a  prompt  and  searching 
Habeas  corpus  remedy;  and  such  a  remedy  the  Habeas  Corpus 
Act-  Act  supplied.  The  King  would  gladly  have  re- 

fused his  consent  to  that  measure :  but  he  was  about  to  appeal 
from  his  Parliament  to  his  people  on  the  question  of  the  suc- 
cession, and  he  could  not  venture,  at  so  critical  a  moment,  to 
reject  a  bill  which  was  in  the  highest  degree  popular. 

On  the  same  day,  the  press  of  England  became  for  a  short 
time  free.  In  old  times  printers  had  been  strictly  controlled 
by  the  Court  of  Star-chamber.  The  Long  Parliament  had 
abolished  the  Star-chamber,  but  had,  in  spite  of  the  philo- 
sophical and  eloquent  expostulation  of  Milton,  established  and 
maintained  a  censorship.  Soon  after  the  Restoration,  an  act 
had  been  passed  which  prohibited  the  printing  of  unlicensed 
books ;  and  it  had  been  provided  that  this  act  should  con- 
tinue in  force  till  the  end  of  the  first  session  of  the  next  Par- 
liament. That  moment  had  now  arrived ;  and  the  King,  in 
the  very  act  of  dismissing  the  Houses,  emancipated  the  Press. 

Shortly  after  the  prorogation  came  a  dissolution  and  an- 
other general  election.  The  zeal  and  strength  of  the  opposi- 


234  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

tion  were  at  the  height.     The  cry  for  the  Exclusion  Bill  was 
louder  than  ever;  and  with  this  cry  was  mingled 

Second  general  .     '  * 

election  of  another  cry,  which  lired  the  blood  of  the  multitude, 
but  which  was  heard  with  regret  and  alarm  by  all 
judicious  friends  of  freedom.  "Not  only  the  rights  of  the 
Duke  of  York,  an  avowed  Papist,  but  those  of  his  two  daugh- 
ters, sincere  and  zealous  Protestants,  were  assailed.  It  was 
confidently  affirmed  that  the  eldest  natural  son  of  the  King 
had  been  born  in  wedlock,  and  was  lawful  heir  to  the  crown. 
Charles,  while  a  wanderer  on  the  Continent,  had  fallen  in 
at  the  Hague  with  Lucy  Walters,  a  Welsh  girl  of  great  beauty, 
popularity  of  but  of  weak  understanding  and  dissolute  manners. 
Monmouth.  gj^  became  hjs  mistress,  and  presented  him  with  a 
son.  A  suspicious  lover  might  have  had  his  doubts ;  for  the 
lady  had  several  admirers,  and  was  not  supposed  to  be  cruel 
to  any.  Charles,  however,  readily  took  her  word,  and  poured 
forth  on  little  James  Crofts,  as  the  boy  was  then  called,  an 
overflowing  fondness,  such  as  seemed  hardly  to  belong  to  that 
cool  and  careless  nature.  Soon  after  the  Restoration,  the 
young  favorite,  who  had  learned  in  France  the  exercises  then 
considered  necessary  to  a  fine  gentleman,  made  his  appear- 
ance at  Whitehall.  He  was  lodged  in  the  palace,  attended  by 
pages,  and  permitted  to  enjoy  several  distinctions  which  had 
till  then  been  confined  to  princes  of  the  blood  royal.  He  was 
married,  while  still  in  tender  youth,  to  Anne  Scott,  heiress  of 
the  noble  house  of  Buccleuch.  He  took  her  name,  and  re- 
ceived with  her  hand  possession  of  her  ample  domains.  The 
estate  which  he  had  acquired  by  this  match  was  popularly 
estimated  at  not  less  than  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year.  Titles, 
and  favors  morg  substantial  than  titles,  were  lavished  on  him. 
He  was  made  Duke  of  Monmouth  in  England,  Duke  of  Buc- 
cleuch in  Scotland,  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  Master  of  the 
Horse,  Commander  of  the  first  troop  of  Life  Guards,  Chief- 
justice  of  Eyre  south  of  Trent,  and  Chancellor  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Cambridge.  Nor  did  lie  appear  to  the  public  unwor- 
thy of  his  high  fortunes.  His  countenance  was  eminently 
handsome  and  engaging,  his  temper  sweet,  his  manners  polite 
and  affable.  Though  a  libertine,  he  won  the  hearts  of  the 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  235 

Puritans.  Though  he  was  known  to  have  been  privy  to  the 
shameful  attack  on  Sir  John  Coventry,  he  easily  obtained  the 
forgiveness  of  the  Country  party.  Even  austere  moralists 
owned  that,  in  such  a  court,  strict  conjugal  fidelity  was  scarce- 
ly to  be  expected  from  one  who,  while  a  child,  had  been  mar- 
ried to  another  child.  Even  patriots  were  willing  to  excuse 
a  headstrong  boy  for  visiting  with  immoderate  vengeance  an 
insult  offered  to  his  father.  And  soon  the  stain  left  by  loose 
amours  and  midnight  brawls  was  effaced  by  honorable  ex- 
ploits. When  Charles  and  Lewis  united  their  forces  against 
Holland,  Monmouth  commanded  the  English  auxiliaries  who 
were  sent  to  the  Continent,  and  approved  himself  a  gallant 
soldier  and  a  not  unintelligent  officer.  On  his  return  he 
found  himself  the  most  popular  man  in  the  kingdom.  Noth- 
ing was  withheld  from  him  but  the  crown ;  nor  did  even  the 
crown  seem  to  be  absolutely  beyond  his  reach.  The  distinc- 
tion which  had  most  injudiciously  been  made  between  him 
and  the  highest  nobles  had  produced  evil  consequences. 
When  a  boy,  he  had  been  invited  to  put  on  his  hat  in  the 
presence-chamber,  while  Howards  and  Seymours  stood  uncov- 
ered round  him.  When  foreign  princes  died,  he  had  mourn- 
ed for  them  in  the  long  purple  cloak,  which  no  other  sub- 
ject, except  the  Duke  of  York  and  Prince  Rupert,  was  per- 
mitted to  wear.  It  was  natural  that  these  things  should  lead 
him  to  regard  himself  as  a  legitimate  prince  of  the  House 
of  Stuart.  Charles,  even  at  a  ripe  age,  was  devoted  to  his 
pleasures  and  regardless  of  his  dignity.  It  could  hardly  be 
thought  incredible  that  he  should  have  at  twenty  secretly 
gone  through  the  form  of  espousing  a  lady  whose  beauty  had 
fascinated  him.  While  Monmouth  was  still  a  child,  and  while 
the  Duke  of  York  still  passed  for  a  Protestant,  it  was  rumor- 
ed throughout  the  country,  and  even  in  circles  which  ought 
to  have  been  well  informed,  that  the  King  had  made  Lucy 
Walters  his  wife,  and  that,  if  every  one  had  his  right,  her  son 
would  be  Prince  of  Wales.  Much  was  said  of  a  certain  black 
box  which,  according  to  the  vulgar  belief,  contained  the  con- 
tract of  marriage.  When  Monmouth  had  returned  from  the 
Low  Countries  with  a  high  character  for  valor  and  conduct, 


236  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

and  when  the  Duke  of  York  was  known  to  be  a  member  of  a 
Church  detested  by  the  great  majority  of  the  nation,  this  idle 
story  became  important.  For  it  there  was  not  the  slightest 
evidence.  Against  it  there  was  the  solemn  asseveration  of 
the  King,  made  before  his  council,  and  by  his  order  commu- 
nicated to  his  people.  But  the  multitude,  always  fond  of 
romantic  adventures,  drank  in  eagerly  the  tale  of  the  secret 
espousals  and  the  black  box.  Some  chiefs  of  the  Opposition 
acted  on  this  occasion  as  they  acted  with  respect  to  the  more 
odious  fable  of  Gates,  and  countenanced  a  story  which  they 
must  have  despised.  The  interest  which  the  populace  took 
in  him  whom  they  regarded  as  the  champion  of  the  true  re- 
ligion, and  the  rightful  heir  of  the  British  throne,  was  kept 
up  by  every  artifice.  When  Monmouth  arrived  in  London 
at  midnight,  the  watchmen  were  ordered  by  the  magistrates 
to  proclaim  the  joyful  event  through  the  streets  of  the  City ; 
the  people  left  their  beds  ;  bonfires  were  lighted ;  the  win- 
dows were  illuminated ;  the  churches  were  opened ;  and  a 
merry  peal  rose  from  all  the  steeples.  When  he  travelled,  he 
was  everywhere  received  with  not  less  pomp,  and  with  far 
more  enthusiasm,  than  had  been  displayed  when  kings  had 
made  progresses  through  the  realm.  He  was  escorted  from 
mansion  to  mansion  by  long  cavalcades  of  armed  gentlemen 
and  yeomen.  Cities  poured  forth  their  whole  population  to 
receive  him.  Electors  thronged  round  him,  to  assure  him 
that  their  votes  were  at  his  disposal.  To  such  a  height  were 
his  pretensions  carried,  that  he  not  only  exhibited  on  his  es- 
cutcheon the  lions  of  England  and  the  lilies  of  France  with- 
out the  baton  sinister  under  which,  according  to  the  law  of 
heraldry,  they  should  have  been  debruised  in  token  of  his 
illegitimate  birth,  but  ventured  to  touch  for  the  king's  evil. 
At  the  same  time  he  neglected  no  art  of  condescension  by 
which  the  love  of  the  multitude  could  be  conciliated.  He 
stood  godfather  to  the  children  of  the  peasantry,  mingled  in 
every  rustic  sport,  wrestled,  played  at  quarter-staff,  and  won 
foot-races  in  his  boots  against  fleet  runners  in  shoes. 

It  is  a  curious  circumstance  that,  at  two  of  the  greatest  con- 
junctures in  our  history,  the  chiefs  of  the  Protestant  party 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  237 

should  have  committed  the  same  error,  and  should  by  that 
error  have  greatly  endangered  their  country  and  their  relig- 
ion. At  the  death  of  Edward  the  Sixth  they  set  up  the  Lady 
Jane,  without  any  show  of  birthright,  in  opposition,  not  only 
to  their  enemy  Mary,  but  also  to  Elizabeth,  the  true  hope  of 
England  and  of  the  Reformation.  Thus  the  most  respecta- 
ble Protestants,  with  Elizabeth  at  their  head,  were  forced  to 
make  common  cause  with  the  Papists.  In  the  same  manner, 
a  hundred  and  thirty  years  later,  a  part  of  the  Opposition,  by 
setting  up  Monmouth  as  a  claimant  of  the  crown,  attacked 
the  rights,  not  only  of  James,  whom  they  justly  regarded  as 
an  implacable  foe  of  their  faith  and  their  liberties,  but  also 
of  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Orange,  who  were  eminently 
marked  out,  both  by  situation  and  by  personal  qualities,  as 
the  defenders  of  all  free  governments  and  of  all  reformed 
churches. 

The  folly  of  this  course  speedily  became  manifest.  At 
present  the  popularity  of  Monmouth  constituted  a  great  part 
of  the  strength  of  the  Opposition.  The  elections  went  against 
the  court :  the  day  fixed  for  the  meeting  of  the  Houses  drew 
near ;  and  it  was  necessary  that  the  King  should  determine  on 
some  line  of  conduct.  Those  who  advised  him  discerned  the 
first  faint  signs  of  a  change  of  public  feeling,  and  hoped  that, 
by  merely  postponing  the  conflict,  he  would  be  able  to  secure 
the  victory.  He  therefore,  without  even  asking  the  opinion 
of  the  Council  of  the  Thirty,  resolved  to  prorogue  the  new 
Parliament  before  it  entered  on  business.  At  the  same  time 
the  Duke  of  York,  who  had  returned  from  Brussels,  was  or- 
dered to  retire  to  Scotland,  and  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
administration  of  that  kingdom. 

Temple's  plan  of  government  was  now  avowedly  abandoned 
and  very  soon  forgotten.  The  Privy  Council  again  became 
what  it  had  been.  Shaftesbury  and  those  who  were  connected 
with  him  in  politics  resigned  their  seats.  Temple  himself,  as 
was  his  wont  in  unquiet  times,  retired  to  his  garden  and  his 
library.  Essex  quitted  the  board  of  Treasury,  and  cast  in  his 
lot  with  the  Opposition.  But  Halifax,  disgusted  and  alarmed 
by  the  violence  of  his  old  associates,  and  Sunderland,  who 


238  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

never  quitted  place  while  he  could  hold  it,  remained  in  the 
King's  service. 

In  consequence  of  the  resignations  which  took  place  at  this 
conjuncture,  the  way  to  greatness  was  left  clear  to  a  new  set 
of  aspirants.  Two  statesmen,  who  subsequently  rose  to  the 
highest  eminence  which  a  British  subject  can  reach,  soon  be- 
gan to  attract  a  large  share  of  the  public  attention.  These 
were  Lawrence  Hyde  and  Sidney  Godolphin. 

Lawrence  Hyde  was  the  second  son  of  the  Chancellor  Clar- 
endon, and  was  brother  of  the  first  Duchess  of  York.  He  had 
Lawrence  excellent  parts,  which  had  been  improved  by  parlia- 
mentary and  diplomatic  experience ;  but  the  infirm- 
ities of  his  temper  detracted  much  from  the  effective  strength 
of  his  abilities.  Negotiator  and  courtier  as  he  was,  he  never 
learned  the  art  of  governing  or  of  concealing  his  emotions. 
When  prosperous,  he  was  insolent  and  boastful ;  when  he  sus- 
tained a  check,  his  undisguised  mortification  doubled  the  tri- 
umph of  his  enemies :  very  slight  provocations  sufficed  to  kin- 
dle his  anger ;  and  when  he  was  angry  he  said  bitter  things 
which  he  forgot  as  soon  as  he  was  pacified,  but  which  oth- 
ers remembered  many  years.  His  quickness  and  penetration 
would  have  made  him  a  consummate  man  of  business  but  for 
his  self-sufficiency  and  impatience.  His  writings  prove  that 
he  had  many  of  the  qualities  of  an  orator ;  but  his  irritability 
prevented  him  from  doing  himself  justice  in  debate;  for  noth- 
ing was  easier  than  to  goad  him  into  a  passion ;  and,  from  the 
moment  when  he  went  into  a  passion,  he  was  at  the  mercy  of 
opponents  far  inferior  to  him  in  capacity. 

Unlike  most  of  the  leading  politicians  of  that  generation,  he 
was  a  consistent,  dogged,  and  rancorous  party  man,  a  Cavalier 
of  the  old  school,  a  zealous  champion  of  the  Crown  and  of  the 
Church,  and  a  hater  of  Republicans  and  Non-conformists.  He 
had  consequently  a  great  body  of  personal  adherents.  The 
clergy  especially  looked  on  him  as  their  own  man,  and  ex- 
tended to  his  foibles  an  indulgence  of  which,  to  say  the  truth, 
he  stood  in  some  need :  for  he  drank  deep ;  and  when  he  was 
in  a  rage — and  he  very  often  was  in  a  rage — he  swore  like  a 
porter. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHAKLES  THE   SECOND.  239 

He  now  succeeded  Essex  at  the  Treasury.  It  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  the  place  of  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  had  not 
then  the  importance  and  dignity  which  now  belong  to  it. 
"When  there  was  a  Lord  Treasurer,  that  great  officer  was  gen- 
erally prime  minister ;  but,  when  the  white  staff  was  in  com- 
mission, the  chief  commissioner  hardly  ranked  so  high  as  a 
Secretary  of  State.  It  was  not  till  the  time  of  Walpole  that 
the  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  became,  under  a  humbler 
name,  all  that  the  Lord  High  Treasurer  had  been. 

Godolphin  had  been  bred  a  page  at  Whitehall,  and  had 
early  acquired  all  the  flexibility  and  the  self-possession  of  a 
Sidney  Godoi-  veteran  courtier.  He  was  laborious,  clear-headed, 
phin-  and  profoundly  versed  in  the  details  of  finance. 

Every  government,  therefore,  found  him  a  useful  servant ; 
and  there  was  nothing  in  his  opinions  or  in  his  character 
which  could  prevent  him  from  serving  any  government. 
"  Sidney  Godolphin,"  said  Charles,  "  is  never  in  the  way,  and 
never  out  of  the  way."  This  pointed  remark  goes  far  to  ex- 
plain Godolphin's  extraordinary  success  in  life. 

He  acted  at  different  times  with  both  the  great  political 
parties :  but  he  never  shared  in  the  passions  of  either.  Like 
most  men  of  cautious  tempers  and  prosperous  fortunes,  he 
had  a  strong  disposition  to  support  whatever  existed.  He 
disliked  revolutions ;  and,  for  the  same  reason  for  which  he 
disliked  revolutions,  he  disliked  counter-revolutions.  His  de- 
portment was  remarkably  grave  and  reserved :  but  his  per- 
sonal tastes  were  low  and  frivolous ;  and  most  of  the  time 
which  he  could  save  f  rom  public  business  was  spent  in  racing, 
card-playing,  and  cock-fighting.  He  now  sat  below  Rochester 
at  the  Board  of  Treasury,  and  distinguished  himself  there  by 
assiduity  and  intelligence. 

Before  the  new  Parliament  was  suffered  to  meet  for  the 
despatch  of  business  a  whole  year  elapsed,  an  eventful  year, 
which  has  left  lasting  traces  in  our  manners  and  language. 
Never  before  had  political  controversy  been  carried  on  with 
so  much  freedom.  Never  before  had  political  clubs  existed 
with  so  elaborate  an  organization  or  so  formidable  an  influ- 
ence. The  one  question  of  the  Exclusion  occupied  the  pub- 


240  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Ca.  II. 

lie  mind.  All  the  presses  and  pulpits  of  the  realm  took  part 
in  the  conflict.  On  one  side  it  was  maintained  that  the  con- 
stitution and  religion  of  the  state  could  never  be  secure  un- 
der a  Popish  king  ;  on  the  other,  that  the  right  of  James 
to  wear  the  crown  in  his  turn  was  derived  from  God,  and 
could  not  be  annulled,  even  by  the  consent  of  all  the  branches 
of  the  legislature.  Every  county,  every  town,  every  family, 
violence  of  was  m  agitation.  The  civilities  and  hospitalities 
Scntso°fnthec  of  neighborhood  were  interrupted.  The  dearest 
Exclusion  BUI.  fas  of  friendship  arid  of  blood  were  sundered. 
Even  school-boys  were  divided  into  angry  parties  ;  and  the 
Duke  of  York  and  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  had  zealous  adhe- 
rents on  all  the  forms  of  Westminster  and  Eton.  The  thea- 
tres shook  with  the  roar  of  the  contending  factions.  Pope 
Joan  was  brought  on  the  stage  by  the  zealous  Protestants. 
Pensioned  poets  filled  their  prologues  and  epilogues  with 
eulogies  on  the  King  and  the  Duke.  The  malcontents  be- 
sieged the  throne  with  petitions,  demanding  that  Parliament 
might  be  forthwith  convened.  The  loyalists  sent  up  address- 
es, expressing  the  utmost  abhorrence  of  all  who  presumed  to 
dictate  to  the  sovereign.  The  citizens  of  London  assembled 
by  tens  of  thousands  to  burn  the  Pope  in  effigy.  The  govern- 
ment posted  cavalry  at  Temple  Bar,  and  placed  ordnance  round 
Whitehall.  In  that  year  our  tongue  was  enriched  with  two 
words,  Mob  and  Sham,  remarkable  memorials  of  a  season  of 
tumult  and  imposture.*  Opponents  of  the  court  were  called 
Birminghams,  Petitioners,  and  Exclusionists.  Those  who  took 
the  King's  side  were  Anti-birminghams,  Abhorrers,  and  Tan- 
tivies. These  appellations  soon  became  obsolete  :  but  at  this 
time  were  first  heard  two  nicknames  which,  though 

Names  of  ••«...,,  -,        -T, 

and        originally  given  in  insult,  were  soon  assumed  with 


pride,  which  are  still  in  daily  use,  which  have  spread 
as  widely  as  the  English  race,  and  which  will  last  as  long  as 
the  Enorlish  literature.  It  is  a  curious  circumstance  that  one 

O 

of  these  nicknames  was  of  Scotch,  and  the  other  of  Irish,  ori- 
gin.    Both  in  Scotland  and  in  Ireland,  misgovernment  had 

*  North's  Examen,  231,  574. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  241 

called  into  existence  bands  of  desperate  men  whose  ferocity 
was  heightened  by  religious  enthusiasm.  In  Scotland  some 
of  the  persecuted  Covenanters,  driven  mad  by  oppression,  had 
lately  murdered  the  Primate,  had  taken  arms  against  the  gov- 
ernment, had  obtained  some  advantages  against  the  King's 
forces,  and  had  not  been  put  down  till  Monmouth,  at  the 
head  of  some  troops  from  England,  had  routed  them  at  Both- 
well  Bridge.  These  zealots  were  most  numerous  among  the 
rustics  of  the  western  lowlands,  who  were  vulgarly  called 
Whigs.  Thus  the  appellation  of  Whig  was  fastened  on  the 
Presbyterian  zealots  of  Scotland,  and  was  transferred  to  those 
English  politicians  who  showed  a  disposition  to  oppose  the 
court,  and  to  treat  Protestant  Non-conformists  with  indul- 
gence. The  bogs  of  Ireland,  at  the  same  time,  afforded  a  ref- 
uge to  Popish  outlaws,  much  resembling  those  who  were  af- 
terward known  as  Whiteboys.  These  men  were  then  called 
Tories.  The  name  of  Tory  was,  therefore,  given  to  English- 
men who  refused  to  concur  in  excluding  a  Roman  Catholic 
prince  from  the  throne. 

The  rage  of  the  hostile  factions  would  have  been  sufficient- 
ly violent,  if  it  had  been  left  to  itself.  But  it  was  studiously 
exasperated  by  the  common  enemy  of  both.  Lewis  still  con- 
tinued to  bribe  and  flatter  both  the  court  and  the  opposition. 
He  exhorted  Charles  to  be  firm :  he  exhorted  James  to  raise 
a  civil  war  in  Scotland :  he  exhorted  the  Whigs  not  to  flinch, 
and  to  rely  with  confidence  on  the  protection  of  France. 

Through  all  this  agitation  a  discerning  eye  might  have  per- 
ceived that  the  public  opinion  was  gradually  changing.  The 
persecution  of  the  Roman  Catholics  went  on ;  but  convic- 
tions were  no  longer  matters  of  course.  A  new  brood  of  false 
witnesses,  among  whom  a  villain  named  Dangerfield  was  the 
most  conspicuous,  infested  the  courts :  but  the  stories  of  these 
men,  though  better  constructed  than  that  of  Gates,  found  less 
credit.  Juries  were  no  longer  so  easy  of  belief  as  during  the 
panic  which  had  followed  the  murder  of  Godfrey ;  and  judges 
who,  while  the  popular  frenzy  was  at  the  height,  had  been  its 
most  obsequious  instruments,  now  ventured  to  express  some 
part  of  what  they  had  from  the  first  thought. 

I.— 16 


242  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

At   length,  in   October,  1680,  the  Parliament  met.     The 
Whigs  had  so  great  a  majority  in  the  Commons  that  the  Ex- 
clusion Bill  went  through  all  its  stages  there  with- 

Meeting  of  Par-  ,  ° 

lia.uent;  the     out  difficulty.     The  KiDff  scarcely  knew  on  what 

Kxclusion  Hill  »  .    °  • 

passes  the        members  of  his  own  cabinet  he  could  reckon.    Hyde 

Commons.  • 

had  been  true  to  his  lory  opinions,  and  had  steadi- 
ly supported  the  cause  of  hereditary  monarchy.  But  Godol- 
phin,  anxious  for  quiet,  and  believing  that  quiet  could  be  re- 
stored only  by  concession,  wished  the  bill  to  pass.  Sunder- 
land,  ever  false,  and  ever  short-sighted,  unable  to  discern  the 
signs  of  approaching  reaction,  and  anxious  to  conciliate  the 
party  which  he  believed  to  be  irresistible,  determined  to  vote 
against  the  court.  The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  implored  her 
royal  lover  not  to  rush  headlong  to  destruction.  If  there 
were  any  point  on  which  he  had  a  scruple  of  conscience  or  of 
honor,  it  was  the  question  of  the  succession ;  but  during  some 
days  it  seemed  that  he  would  submit.  lie  wavered,  asked 
what  sum  the  Commons  would  give  him  if  he  yielded,  and 
suffered  a  negotiation  to  be  opened  with  the  leading  Whigs. 
But  a  deep  mutual  distrust  which  had  been  many  years 
growing,  and  which  had  been  carefully  nursed  by  the  arts  of 
France,  made  a  treaty  impossible.  Neither  side  would  place 
confidence  in  the  other.  The  \vhole  nation  now  looked  with 
breathless  anxiety  to  the  House  of  Lords.  The  assemblage 
of  peers  was  large.  The  King  himself  was  present.  The  de- 
bate was  long,  earnest,  and  occasionally  furious.  Some  hands 
were  laid  on  the  pommels  of  swords,  in  a  manner  wThich 
revived  the  recollection  of  the  stormy  parliaments  of  Edward 
the  Third  and  Richard  the  Second.  Shaftesbury  and  Essex 

were  "joined  by  the  treacherous  Sunderland.     But 

Exclusion  Bill  J      .  •>  . 

rejected  by  the  the  genius  of  llalitax  bore  down  all  opposition. 

Lords. 

Deserted  by  his  most  important  colleagues,  and  op- 
posed to  a  crowd  of  able  antagonists,  he  defended  the  cause 
of  the  Duke  of  York,  in  a  succession  of  speeches  which,  many 
years  later,  were  remembered  as  masterpieces  of  reasoning, 
of  wit,  and  of  eloquence.  It  is  seldom  that  oratory  changes 
votes.  Yet  the  attestation  of  contemporaries  leaves  no  doubt 
that,  on  this  occasion,  votes  were  changed  by  the  oratory  of 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  24:3 

Halifax.  Tae  Bishops,  true  to  their  doctrines,  supported  the 
principle  of  hereditary  .right,  and  the  bill  was  rejected  by  a 
great  majority.* 

The  party  which  preponderated  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, bitterly  mortified  by  this  defeat,  found  some  consola- 
Executionof  lion  in  shedding  the  blood  of  Koman  Catholics. 
Stafford.  William  Howard,  Viscount  Stafford,  one  of  the  un- 
happy men  who  had  been  accused  of  a  share  in  the  plot,  was 
impeached ;  and  on  the  testimony  of  Gates  and  of  two  other 
false  witnesses,  Dngdale  and  Turberville,  was  found  guilty  of 
high -treason,  and  suffered  death.  But  the  circumstances  of 
his  trial  and  execution  ought  to  have  given  a  useful  warning 
to  the  Whig  leaders.  A  large  and  respectable  minority  of 
the  House  of  Lords  pronounced  the  prisoner  not  guilty.  The 
multitude,  which  a  few  months  before  had  received  the  dying 
declarations  of  Oates's  victims  with  mockery  and  execrations, 
now  loudly  expressed  a  belief  that  Stafford  was  a  murdered 
man.  When  he  with  his  last  breath  protested  his  innocence, 
the  cry  was, "  God  bless  you,  my  Lord !  We  believe  you,  my 
Lord."  A  judicious  observer  might  easily  have  predicted 
that  the  blood  then  shed  would  shortly  have  blood. 

The  King  determined  to  try  once  more  the  experiment 
General  eiec-  °f  a  dissolution.  A  new  Parliament  was  summoned 
tionofiesi.  to  meet  at  Oxford  in  March,  1681.  Since  the  days 
of  the  Plantagenets  the  Houses  had  constantly  sat  at  West- 

*  A  peer  who  was  present  has  described  the  effect  of  Halifax's  oratory  in  words 
which  I  will  quote,  because,  though  they  have  been  long  in  print,  they  are  proba- 
bly known  to  few  even  of  the  most  curious  and  diligent  readers  of  history. 

"  Of  powerful  eloquence  and  great  parts  were  the  Duke's  enemies  who  did  as- 
sert the  bill ;  but  a  noble  Lord  appeared  against  it  who,  that  day,  in  all  the  force 
of  speech,  in  reason,  in  arguments  of  what  could  concern  the  public  or  the  private 
interests  of  men,  in  honor,  in  conscience,  in  estate,  did  outdo  himself  and  every 
other  man ;  and  in  fine  his  conduct  and  his  parts  were  both  victorious,  and  by  him 
all  the  wit  and  malice  of  that  party  was  overthrown." 

This  passage  is  taken  from  a  memoir  of  Henry,  Earl  of  Peterborough,  in  a  vol- 
ume entitled  "Succinct  Genealogies,  by  Robert  Halstead,"  fol.,  1685.  The  name 
of  Halstead  is  fictitious.  The  real  authors  were  the  Earl  of  Peterborough  himself 
and  his  chaplain.  The  book  is  extremely  rare.  Only  twenty-four  copies  were 
printed,  two  of  which  are  now  in  the  British  Museum.  Of  these  two  one  belonged 
to  George  the  Fourth,  and  the  other  to  Mr.  Grenville. 


^44  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

minster,  except  when  the  plague  was  raging  in  the  capital : 
but  so  extraordinary  a  conjuncture  seemed  to  require  extraor- 
dinary precautions.  If  the  Parliament  were  held  in  its  usual 
place  of  assembling,  the  House  of  Commons  might  declare  it- 
self permanent,  and  might  call  for  aid  on  the  magistrates  and 
citizens  of  London.  The  trainbands  might  rise  to  defend 
Shaftesbury  as  they  had  risen  forty  years  before  to  defend 
Pym  and  Hampden.  The  Guards  might  be  overpowered,  the 
palace  forced,  the  King  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  his  muti- 
nous subjects.  At  Oxford  there  was  no  such  danger.  The 
University  was  devoted  to  the  crown ;  and  the  gentry  of  the 
neighborhood  were  generally  Tories.  Here,  therefore,  the  op- 
position had  more  reason  than  the  King  to  apprehend  violence. 

The  elections  were  sharply  contested.  The  Whigs  still 
composed  a  majority  of  the  House  of  Commons ;  but  it  was 
plain  that  the  Tory  spirit  was  fast  rising  throughout  the  coun- 
try. It  should  seem  that  the  sagacious  and  versatile  Shaftes- 
bury ought  to  have  foreseen  the  coming  change,  and  to  have 
consented  to  the  compromise  which  the  court  offered ;  but  he 
appears  to  have  forgotten  his  old  tactics.  Instead  of  making 
dispositions  which,  in  the  worst  event,  would  have  secured  his 
retreat,  he  took  up  a  position  in  which  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  either  conquer  or  perish.  Perhaps  his  head,  strong 
as  it  was,  had  been  turned  by  popularity,  by  success,  and  by 
the  excitement  of  conflict.  Perhaps  he  had  spurred  his  party 
till  he  could  no  longer  curb  it,  and  was  really  hurried  on 
headlong  by  those  whom  he  seemed  to  guide. 

The  eventful  day  arrived.  The  meeting  at  Oxford  resem- 
bled rather  that  of  a  Polish  diet  than  that  of  an  English  par- 
liament. The  Whier  members  were  escorted  by 

Parliament  °, 

held  at  oxford,  great  numbers  of  their  armed  and  mounted  tenants 
and  serving-men,  who  exchanged  looks  of  defiance 
with  the  royal  Guards.  The  slightest  provocation  might,  un- 
der such  circumstances,  have  produced  a  civil  war ;  but  nei- 
ther side  dared  to  strike  the  first  blow.  The  King  again 
offered  to  consent  to  anything  but  the  Exclusion  Bill.  The 
Commons  were  determined  to  accept  nothing  but  the  Exclu- 
sion Bill.  In  a  few  days  the  Parliament  was  again  dissolved. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  245 

The  King  had  triumphed.     The  reaction,  which  had  begun 

some  months  before  the  meeting  of  the  Houses  at  Oxford, 

now  went  rapidly  on.     The  nation,  indeed,  was  still 

Tory  reaction.  .  ' 

hostile  to  ropery ;  but,  when  men  reviewed  the 
whole  history  of  the  plot,  they  felt  that  their  Protestant  zeal 
had  hurried  them  into  folly  and  crime,  and  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve that  they  had  been  induced  by  nursery  tales  to  clamor 
for  the  blood  of  fellow-subjects  and  fellow-Christians.  The 
most  loyal,  indeed,  could  not  deny  that  the  administration  of 
Charles  had  often  been  highly  blamable.  But  men  who  had 
not  the  full  information  which  we  possess  touching  his  deal- 
ings with  France,  and  who  were  disgusted  by  the  violence  of 
the  Whigs,  enumerated  the  large  concessions  which,  during 
the  last  few  years,  he  had  made  to  his  parliaments,  and  the 
still  larger  concessions  which  he  had  declared  himself  willing 
to  make.  He  had  consented  to  the  laws  which  excluded  Ro- 
man Catholics  from  the  House  of  Lords,  from  the  Privy  Coun- 
cil, and  from  all  civil  and  military  offices.  He  had  passed  the 
Habeas  Corpus  Act.  If  securities  yet  stronger  had  not  been 
provided  against  the  dangers  to  which  the  constitution  and 
the  Church  might  be  exposed  under  a  Roman  Catholic  sover- 
eign, the  fault  lay,  not  with  Charles,  who  had  invited  the  Par- 
liament to  propose  such  securities,  but  with  those  Whigs  who 
had  refused  to  hear  of  any  substitute  for  the  Exclusion  Bill. 
One  thing  only  had  the  King  denied  to  his  people.  He  had 
refused  to  take  away  his  brother's  birthright.  And  was  there 
not  good  reason  to  believe  that  this  refusal  was  prompted  by 
laudable  feelings  ?  What  selfish  motive  could  faction  itself 
impute  to  the  royal  mind  ?  The  Exclusion  Bill  did  not  cur- 
tail the  reigning  King's  prerogatives,  or  diminish  his  income. 
Indeed,  by  passing  it,  he  might  easily  have  obtained  an  ample 
addition  to  his  own  revenue.  And  what  was  it  to  him  who 
ruled  after  him  ?  Nay,  if  he  had  personal  predilections,  they 
were  known  to  be  rather  in  favor  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth 
than  of  the  Duke  of  York.  The  most  natural  explanation  of 
the  King's  conduct  seemed  to  be  that,  careless  as  was  his  tem- 
per, and  loose  as  were  his  morals,  he  had,  on  this  occasion, 
acted  from  a  sense  of  duty  and  honor.  And,  if  so,  would  the 


246  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

nation  compel  him  to  do  what  he  thought  criminal  and  dis- 
graceful? To  apply,  even  by  strictly  constitutional  means,  a 
violent  pressure  to  his  conscience,  seemed  to  zealous  Royalists 
ungenerous  and  undutiful.  But  strictly  constitutional  means 
were  not  the  only  means  which  the  Whigs  were  disposed  to 
employ.  Signs  were  already  discernible  which  portended  the 
approach  of  great  troubles.  Men  who,  in  the  time  of  the 
civil  war  and  of  the  Commonwealth,  had  acquired  an  odious 
notoriety,  had  emerged  from  the  obscurity  in  which,  after  the 
Restoration,  they  had  hidden  themselves  from  the  general  ha- 
tred, showed  their  confident  and  busy  faces  everywhere,  and 
appeared  to  anticipate  a  second  reign  of  the  Saints.  Another 
Naseby,  another  High  Court  of  Justice,  another  usurper  on 
the  throne,  the  Lords  again  ejected  from  their  hall  by  vio- 
lence, the  Universities  again  purged,  the  Church  again  robbed 
and  persecuted,  the  Puritans  again  dominant,  to  such  results 
did  the  desperate  policy  of  the  Opposition  seem  to  tend. 

Strongly  moved  by  these  apprehensions,  the  majority  of 
the  upper  and  middle  classes  hastened  to  rally  round  the 
throne.  The  situation  of  the  King  bore,  at  this  time,  a  great 
resemblance  to  that  in  which  his  father  stood  just  after  the 
Remonstrance  had  been  voted.  But  the  reaction  of  1641  had 
not  been  suffered  to  run  its  course.  Charles  the  First,  at  the 
very  moment  when  his  people,  long  estranged,  were  return- 
ing to  him  with  hearts  disposed  to  reconciliation,  had,  by  a 
perfidious  violation  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  the  realm, 
forfeited  their  confidence  forever.  Had  Charles  the  Second 
taken  a  similar  course,  had  he  arrested  the  Whig  leaders  in  an 
irregular  manner,  had  he  impeached  them  of  high-treason  be- 
fore a  tribunal  which  had  no  legal  jurisdiction  over  them,  it 
is  highly  probable  that  they  would  speedily  have  regained  the 
ascendency  which  they  had  lost.  .  Fortunately  for  himself, 
he  was  induced,  at  this  crisis,  to  adopt  a  policy  singularly  ju- 
dicious. He  determined  to  conform  to  the  law,  but  at  the 
same  time  to  make  vigorous  and  unsparing  use  of  the  law 
against  his  adversaries.  He  was  not  bound  to  convoke  a  par- 
liament till  three  years  should  have  elapsed.  He  was  not 
much  distressed  for  money.  The  produce  of  the  taxes  which 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  247 

had  been  settled  on  him  for  life  exceeded  the  estimate.  He 
was  at  peace  with  all  the  world.  He  could  retrench  his  ex- 
penses by  giving  up  the  costly  and  useless  settlement  of  Tan- 
gier ;  and  he  might  hope  for  pecuniary  aid  from  France.  He 
had,  therefore,  ample  time  and  means  for  a  systematic  attack 
on  the  Opposition  under  the  forms  of  the  constitution.  The 
judges  were  removable  at  his  pleasure :  the  juries  were  nomi- 
nated by  the  sheriffs ;  and,  in  almost  all  the  counties  of  Eng- 
land, the  sheriffs  were  nominated  by  himself.  Witnesses,  of 
the  same  class  with  those  who  had  recently  sworn  away  the 
lives  of  Papists,  were  ready  to  swear  away  the  lives  of  Whigs. 

The  first  victim  was  College,  a  noisy  and  violent  dema- 
gogue of  mean  birth  and  education.  He  was  by  trade  a 
persecution  of  joiner,  and  was  celebrated  as  the  inventor  of  the 
the  whigs.  Protestant  flail.*  He  had  been  at  Oxford  when 
the  Parliament  sat  there,  and  was  accused  of  having  planned 
a  rising  and  an  attack  on  the  King's  guards.  Evidence  was 
given  against  him  by  Dugdale  and  Turberville,  the  same  in- 
famous men  who  had,  a  few  months  earlier,  borne  false  wit- 
ness against  Stafford.  In  the  sight  of  a  jury  of  country 
squires  no  Exclusionist  was  likely  to  find  favor.  College  was 
convicted.  The  crowd  which  filled  the  court-house  of  Oxford 
received  the  verdict  with  a  roar  of  exultation,  as  barbarous  as 
that  which  he  and  his  friends  had  been  in  the  habit  of  raising 
when  innocent  Papists  were  doomed  to  the  gallows.  His  ex- 
ecution was  the  beginning  of  a  new  judicial  massacre,  not  less 
atrocious  than  that  in  which  he  had  himself  borne  a  share. 

The  government,  emboldened  by  this  first  victory,  now 
aimed  a  blow  at  an  enemy  of  a  very  different  class.  It  was 
resolved  that  Shaftesbury  should  be  brought  to  trial  for  his 
life.  Evidence  was  collected  which,  it  was  thought,  would 
support  a  charge  of  treason.  But  the  facts  which  it  was  nec- 
essary to  prove  were  alleged  to  have  been  committed  in  Lon- 
don. The  sheriffs  of  London,  chosen  by  the  citizens,  were 
zealous  Whigs.  They  named  a  Whig  grand  jury,  which 

*  This  is  mentioned  in  the  curious  work  entitled  "Ragguaglio  della  solennc 
Comparsa  fatta  in  Roma  gli  otto  di  Gennaio,  1687,  dalF  illustrissimo  et  eccellen- 
tissimo  signer  Conte  di  Castlemaine." 


248  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

threw  out  the  bill.     This  defeat,  far  from  discouraging  those 

who  advised  the  King,  suggested  to  them  a  new  and  daring 

scheme.     Since  the  charter  of  the  capital  was  in 

Charter  of  the  .  -J 

city  conflsca-  their  way,  that  charter  must  be  annulled.  It  was 
pretended,  therefore,  that  the  city  had  by  some 
irregularities  forfeited  its  municipal  privileges ;  and  proceed- 
ings were  instituted  against  the  corporation  in  the  Court  of 
King's  Bench.  At  the  same  time  those  laws  which  had,  soon 
after  the  Restoration,  been  enacted  against  Non-conformists, 
and  which  had  remained  dormant  during  the  ascendency  of 
the  Whigs,  were  enforced  all  over  the  kingdom  with  extreme 
rigor. 

Yet  the  spirit  of  the  Whigs  was  not  subdued.  Though  in 
evil  plight,  they  were  still  a  numerous  and  powerful  party ; 
whigconspir-  an(^j  as  ^ne7  mustered  strong  in  the  large  towns, 
ades-  and  especially  in  the  capital,  they  made  a  noise  and 

a  show  more  than  proportioned  to  their  real  force.  Animated 
by  the  recollection  of  past  triumphs,  and  by  the  sense  of  pres- 
ent oppression,  they  overrated  both  their  strength  and  their 
wrongs.  It  was  not  in  their  power  to  make  out  that  clear 
and  overwhelming  case  which  can  alone  justify  so  violent  a 
remedy  as  resistance  to  an  established  government.  What- 
ever they  might  suspect,  they  could  not  prove  that  their  sov- 
ereign had  entered  into  a  treaty  with  France  against  the  relig- 
ion and  liberties  of  England.  What  was  apparent  was  not 
sufficient  to  warrant  an  appeal  to  the  sword.  If  the  Lords 
had  thrown  out  the  Exclusion  Bill,  they  had  thrown  it  out  in 
the  exercise  of  a  right  coeval  with  the  constitution.  If  the 
King  had  dissolved  the  Oxford  Parliament,  he  had  done  so 
by  virtue  of  a  prerogative  which  had  never  been  questioned. 
If  he  had,  since  the  dissolution,  done  some  harsh  things,  still 
those  things  were  in  strict  conformity  with  the  letter  of  the 
law,  and  with  the  recent  practice  of  the  malcontents  them- 
selves. If  he  had  prosecuted  his  opponents,  he  had  prose- 
cuted them  according  to  the  proper  forms,  and  before  the 
proper  tribunals.  The  evidence  now  produced  for  the  crown 
was  at  least  as  worthy  of  credit  as  the  evidence  on  which  the 
noblest  blood  of  England  had  lately  been  shed  by  the  oppo- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  249 

sition.  The  treatment  which  an  accused  Whig  had  now  to 
expect  from  judges,  advocates,  sheriffs,  juries,  and  spectators, 
was  no  worse  than  the  treatment  which  had  lately  been 
thought  by  the  Whigs  good  enough  for  an  accused  Papist. 
If  the  privileges  of  the  city  of  London  were  attacked,  they 
were  attacked,  not  by  military  violence  or  by  any  disputable 
exercise  of  prerogative,  but  according  to  the  regular  practice 
of  Westminster  Hall.  No  tax  was  imposed  by  royal  authority. 
No  law  was  suspended.  The  Habeas  Corpus  Act  was  respected. 
Even  the  Test  Act  was  enforced.  The  opposition,  therefore, 
could  not  bring  home  to  the  King  that  species  of  misgovern- 
ment  which  alone  could  justify  insurrection.  And,  even  had 
his  misgovernment  been  more  flagrant  than  it  was,  insurrection 
would  ctill  have  been  criminal,  because  it  was  almost  certain 
to  be  unsuccessful.  The  situation  of  the  Whigs  in  1682  dif- 
fered widely  from  that  of  the  Roundheads  forty  years  before. 
Those  who  took  up  arms  against  Charles  the  First  acted  under 
the  authority  of  a  Parliament  which  had  been  legally  assem- 
bled, and  which  could  not,  without  its  own  consent,  be  legally 
dissolved.  The  opponents  of  Charles  the  Second  were  pri- 
vate men.  Almost  all  the  military  and  naval  resources  of 
the  kingdom  had  been  at  the  disposal  of  those  who  resisted 
Charles  the  First.  All  the  military  and  naval  resources  of 
the  kingdom  were  at  the  disposal  of  Charles  the  Second.  The 
House  of  Commons  had  been  supported  by  at  least  half  the 
nation  against  Charles  the  First.  But  those  who  were  dis- 
posed to  levy  war  against  Charles  the  Second  were  certainly 
a  minority.  It  could  hardly  be  doubted,  therefore,  that,  if 
they  attempted  a  rising,  they  would  fail.  Still  less  could  it 
be  doubted  that  their  failure  would  aggravate  every  evil  of 
which  they  complained.  The  true  policy  of  the  Whigs  was 
to  submit  with  patience  to  adversity  which  was  the  natural 
consequence  and  the  just  punishment  of  their  errors,  to  wait 
patiently  for  that  turn  of  public  feeling  which  must  inevita- 
bly come,  to  observe  the  law,  and  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
protection,  imperfect  indeed,  but  by  no  means  nugatory,  which 
the  law  afforded  to  innocence.  Unhappily  they  took  a  very 
different  course.  Unscrupulous  and  hot-headed  chiefs  of  the 


250  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

party  formed  and  discussed  schemes  of  resistance,  and  were 
heard,  if  not  with  approbation,  yet  with  the  show  of  acquies- 
cence, by  much  better  men  than  themselves.  It  was  proposed 
that  there  should  be  simultaneous  insurrections  in  London, 
in  Cheshire,  at  Bristol,  and  at  Newcastle.  Communications 
were  opened  with  the  discontented  Presbyterians  of  Scotland, 
who  were  suffering  under  a  tyranny  such  as  England,  in  the 
worst  times,  had  never  known.  While  the  leaders  of  the  Op- 
position thus  revolved  plans  of  open  rebellion,  but  were  still 
restrained  by  fears  or  scruples  from  taking  any  decisive  step, 
a  design  of  a  very  different  kind  was  meditated  by  some  of 
their  accomplices.  To  fierce  spirits,  unrestrained  by  princi- 
ple, or  maddened  by  fanaticism,  it  seemed  that  to  waylay  and 
murder  the  King  and  his  brother  was  the  shortest  and  surest 
way  of  vindicating  the  Protestant  religion  and  the  liberties 
of  England.  A  place  and  a  time  were  named;  and  the  de- 
tails of  the  butchery  were  frequently  discussed,  if  not  defi- 
nitely arranged.  This  scheme  was  known  but  to  few,  and 
was  concealed  with  especial  care  from  the  upright  and  hu- 
mane Russell,  and  from  Monmouth,  who,  though  not  a  man 
of  delicate  conscience,  would  have  recoiled  with  horror  from 
the  guilt  of  parricide.  Thus  there  were  two  plots,  one  within 
the  other.  The  object  of  the  great  Whig  plot  was  to  raise 
the  nation  in  arms  against  the  government.  The  lesser  plot, 
commonly  called  the  Rye -house  Plot,  in  which  only  a  few 
desperate  men  were  concerned,  had  for  its  object  the  assas- 
sination of  the  King  and  of  the  heir-presumptive. 

Both  plots  were  soon  discovered.     Cowardly  traitors  hast- 
ened to  save  themselves,  by  divulging  all,  and  more  than  all, 
that  had  passed  in  the  deliberations  of  the  party. 

Detection  of  *  ,,..  r      i  . 

the  whig  con-    lhat  only  a  small  minority  of  those  who   medi- 

s  piracies. 

tated  resistance  had  admitted  into  their  minds  the 
thought  of  assassination  is  fully  established :  but,  as  the  two 
conspiracies  ran  into  each  other,  it  was  not  difficult  for  the 
government  to  confound  them  together.  The  just  indigna- 
severity  of  the  ti°n  excited  by  the  Rye-house  Plot  was  extended 

government.       for    &   tjme    t()    the    ^^    ^hig    bo(Jy>       Th(}    ^^ 

was  now  at  liberty  to  exact  full  vengeance  for  years  of  re- 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHAELES  THE  SECOND.  251 

straint  and  humiliation.  Shaftesbury,  indeed,  had  escaped  the 
fate  which  his  manifold  perfidy  had  well  deserved.  He  had 
seen  that  the  ruin  of  his  party  was  at  hand,  had  in  vain  en- 
deavored to  make  his  peace  with  the  royal  brothers,  had  fled 
to  Holland,  and  had  died  there,  under  the  generous  protec- 
tion of  a  government  which  he  had  cruelly  wronged.  Mon- 
mouth  threw  himself  at  his  father's  feet  and  found  mercy, 
but  soon  gave  new  offence,  and  thought  it  prudent  to  go  into 
voluntary  exile.  Essex  perished  by  his  own  hand  in  the 
Tower.  Russell,  who  appears  to  have  been  guilty  of  no  of- 
fence falling  within  the  definition  of  high-treason,  and  Sid- 
ney, of  whose  guilt  no  legal  evidence  could  be  produced,  were 
beheaded  in  defiance  of  law  and  justice.  Russell  died  with 
the  fortitude  of  a  Christian,  Sidney  with  the  fortitude  of  a 
Stoic.  Some  active  politicians  of  meaner  rank  were  sent  to 
the  gallows.  Many  quitted  the  country.  Numerous  prosecu- 
tions for  inisprision  of  treason,  for  libel,  and  for  conspiracy  were 
instituted.  Convictions  were  obtained  without  difficulty  from 
Tory  juries,  and  rigorous  punishments  were  inflicted  by  court- 
ly judges.  With  these  criminal  proceedings  were  joined  civil 
proceedings  scarcely  less  formidable.  Actions  were  brought 
against  persons  who  had  defamed  the  Duke  of  York ;  and 
damages  tantamount  to  a  sentence  of  perpetual  imprisonment 
were  demanded  by  the  plaintiff,  and  without  difficulty  ob- 
tained. The  Court,  of  King's  Bench  pronounced  that  the 
franchises  of  the  city  of  London  were  forfeited  to  the  crown. 
seizure  of  Flushed  with  this  great  victory,  the  government 
charters.  proceeded  to  attack  the  constitutions  of  other  cor- 
porations which  were  governed  by  Whig  officers,  and  which 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  returning  Whig  members  to  Parlia- 
ment. Borough  after  borough  was  compelled  to  surrender 
its  privileges ;  and  new  charters  were  granted  which  gave  the 
ascendency  everywhere  to  the  Tories. 

These  proceedings,  however  reprehensible,  had  yet  the  sem- 
blance of  legality.  They  were  also  accompanied  by  an  act 
intended  to  quiet  the  uneasiness  with  which  many  loyal  men 
looked  forward  to  the  accession  of  a  Popish  sovereign.  The 
Lady  Anne,  younger  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  York  by  his 


252  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cu.  II. 

first  wife,  was  married  to  George,  a  prince  of  the  orthodox 
House  of  Denmark.  The  Tory  gentry  and  clergy  might  now 
flatter  themselves  that  the  Chnroh  of  England  had  been  ef- 
fectually secured  without  any  violation  of  the  order  of  suc- 
cession. The  King  and  the  heir-presumptive  were  nearly  of 
the  same  age.  Both  were  approaching  the  decline  of  life. 
The  King's  health  was  good.  It  was  therefore  probable  that 
James,  if  he  ever  came  to  the  throne,  would  have  but  a  short 
reign.  Beyond  his  reign  there  was  the  gratifying  prospect 
of  a  long  series  of  Protestant  sovereigns. 

The  liberty  of  unlicensed  printing  was  of  little  or  no  use 
to  the  vanquished  party ;  for  the  temper  of  judges  and  juries 
was  such  that  no  writer  whom  the  government  prosecuted  for 
a  libel  had  any  chance  of  escaping.  The  dread  of  punishment, 
therefore,  did  all  that  a  censorship  could  have  done.  Mean- 
while, the  pulpits  resounded  with  harangues  against  the  sin  of 
rebellion.  The  treatises  in  which  Filmer  maintained  that  he- 
reditary despotism  was  the  form  of  government  ordained  by 
God,  and  that  limited  monarchy  was  a  pernicious  absurdity, 
had  recently  appeared,  and  had  been  favorably  received  by  a 
large  section  of  the  Tory  party.  The  University  of  Oxford, 
on  the  very  day  on  which  Russell  was  put  to  death,  adopted 
by  a  solemn  public  act  these  strange  doctrines,  and  ordered 
the  political  works  of  Buchanan,  Milton,  and  Baxter  to  be 
publicly  burned  in  the  court  of  the  Schools. 

Thus  emboldened,  the  King  at  length  ventured  to  overstep 
the  bounds  which  he  had  during  some  years  observed,  and  to 
violate  the  plain  letter  of  the  law.  The  law  was  that  not 
more  than  three  years  should  pass  between  the  dissolving  of 
one  parliament  and  the  convoking  of  another.  But,  when 
three  years  had  elapsed  after  the  dissolution  of  the  Parlia- 
ment which  sat  at  Oxford,  no  writs  wTere  issued  for  an  elec- 
tion. This  infraction  of  the  constitution  was  the  more  repre- 
hensible, because  the  King  had  little  reason  to  fear  a  meeting 
with  a  new  House  of  Commons.  The  counties  were  gener- 
ally on  his  side ;  and  many  boroughs  in  which  the  Whigs  had 
lately  held  sway  had  been  so  remodelled  that  they  were  cer- 
tain to  return  none  but  courtiers. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  253 

In  a  short  time  the  law  was  again  violated  in  order  to  grat- 
ify the  Duke  of  York.     That  prince  was,  partly  on  account 

of  his  religion,  and  partly  on  account  of  the  stern- 
influence  of  r      . '' 
the  Duke  of     ness  and  harshness  of  his  nature,  so  unpopular  that 

it  had  been  thought  necessary  to  keep  him  out  of 
sight  while  the  Exclusion  Bill  was  before  Parliament,  lest  his 
appearance  should  give  an  advantage  to  the  party  which  was 
struggling  to  deprive  him  of  his  birthright.  He  had,  there- 
fore, been  sent  to  govern  Scotland,  where  the  savage  old  ty- 
rant Lauderdale  was  sinking  into  the  grave.  Even  Lauder- 
dale  was  now  outdone.  The  administration  of  James  was 
marked  by  odious  laws,  by  barbarous  punishments,  and  by 
judgments  to  the  iniquity  of  which  even  that  age  furnished 
no  parallel.  The  Scottish  Privy  Council  had  power  to 
put  state -prisoners  to  the  question.  But  the  sight  was  so 
dreadful  that,  as  soon  as  the  boots  appeared,  even  the  most 
servile  and  hard-hearted  courtiers  hastened  out  of  the  cham- 
ber. The  board  was  sometimes  quite  deserted  :  and  it  was 
at  length  found  necessary  to  make  an  order  that  the  members 
should  keep  their  seats  on  such  occasions.  The  Duke  of 
York,  it  was  remarked,  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  the  specta- 
cle which  some  of  the  worst  men  then  living  were  unable  to 
contemplate  without  pity  and  horror.  He  not  only  came  to 
Council  when  the  torture  was  to  be  inflicted,  but  watched  the 
agonies  of  the  sufferers  with  that  sort  of  interest  and  compla- 
cency with  which  men  observe  a  curious  experiment  in  sci- 
ence. Thus  he  employed  himself  at  Edinburgh,  till  the  event 
of  the  conflict  between  the  court  and  the  Whigs  was  no  lon- 
ger doubtful.  He  then  returned  to  England  :  but  he  was  still 
excluded  by  the  Test  Act  from  all  public  employment ;  nor 
did  the  King  at  first  think  it  safe  to  violate  a  statute  which 
the  great  majority  of  his  most  loyal  subjects  regarded  as  one 
of  the  chief  securities  of  their  religion  and  of  their  civil  rights. 
When,  however,  it  appeared,  from  a  succession  of  trials,  that  the 
nation  had  patience  to  endure  almost  anything  that  the  govern- 
ment had  courage  to  do,  Charles  ventured  to  dispense  with  the 
law  in  his  brother's  favor.  The  Duke  again  took  his  seat  in 
the  Council,  and  resumed  the  direction  of  naval  affairs. 


254:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

These  breaches  of  the  constitution  excited,  it  is  true,  some 
murmurs  among  the  moderate  Tories,  and  were  not  unani- 
HC  is  opposed  mously  approved  even  by  the  King's  ministers, 
by  Halifax.  Halifax  in  particular,  now  a  marquess  and  Lord 
Privy  Seal,  had,  from  the  very  day  on  which  the  Tories  had 
by  his  help  gained  the  ascendant,  begun  to  turn  Whig.  As 
soon  as  the  Exclusion  Bill  had  been  thrown  out,  he  had  press- 
ed the  House  of  Lords  to  make  provision  against  the  danger 
to  which,  in  the  next  reign,  the  liberties  and  religion  of  the 
nation  might  be  exposed.  He  now  saw  with  alarm  the  vio- 
lence of  that  reaction  which  was,  in  no  small  measure,  his  own 
work.  He  did  riot  try  to  conceal  the  scorn  which  he  felt  for 
the  servile  doctrines  of  the  University  of  Oxford.  He  de- 
tested the  French  alliance.  He  disapproved  of  the  long  in- 
termission of  parliaments.  He  regretted  the  severity  with 
which  the  vanquished  party  was  treated.  He  who,  when  the 
Whigs  were  predominant,  had  ventured  to  pronounce  Stafford 
not  guilty,  ventured,  when  they  were  vanquished  and  helpless, 
to  intercede  for  Russell.  At  one  of  the  last  councils  which 
Charles  held,  a  remarkable  scene  took  place.  The  charter  of 
Massachusetts  had  been  forfeited.  A  question  arose  how,  for 
the  future,  the  colony  should  be  governed.  The  general  opin- 
ion of  the  board  was  that  the  whole  power,  legislative  as  well 
as  executive,  should  abide  in  the  crown.  Halifax  took  the 
opposite  side,  and  argued  with  great  energy  against  absolute 
monarchy,  and  in  favor  of  representative  government.  It  was 
vain,  he  said,  to  think  that  a  population,  sprung  from  the  Eng- 
lish stock,  and  animated  by  English  feelings,  would  long  bear 
to  be  deprived  of  English  institutions.  Life,  he  exclaimed, 
would  not  be  worth  having  in  a  country  where  liberty  and 
property  were  at  the  mercy  of  one  despotic  master.  The 
Duke  of  York  was  greatly  incensed  by  this  language,  and 
represented  to  his  brother  the  danger  of  retaining  in  office  a 
man  who  appeared  to  be  infected  with  all  the  worst  notions 
of  Marvell  and  Sidney. 

Some  modern  writers  have  blamed  Halifax  for  continuing 
in  the  ministry  while  he  disapproved  of  the  manner  in  which 
both  domestic  and  foreign  affairs  were  conducted.  But  this 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHAKLES  THE  SECOND.  255 

censure  is  unjust.  Indeed,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  word 
ministry,  in  the  sense  in  which  we  use  it,  was  then  unknown.* 
The  thing  itself  did  not  exist;  for  it  belongs  to  an  age  in 
which  parliamentary  government  is  fully  established.  At 
present  the  chief  servants  of  the  crown  form  one  body.  They 
are  understood  to  be  on  terms  of  friendly  confidence  with 
each  other,  and  to  agree  as  to  the  main  principles  on  which 
the  executive  administration  ought  to  be  conducted.  If  a 
slight  difference  of  opinion  arises  among  them,  it  is  easily 
compromised :  but  if  one  of  them  differs  from  the  rest  on  a 
vital  point,  it  is  his  duty  to  resign.  While  he  retains  his  of- 
fice, he  is  held  responsible  even  for  steps  which  he  has  tried 
to  dissuade  his  colleagues  from  taking.  In  the  seventeenth 
century,  the  heads  of  the  various  branches  of  the  administra- 
tion were  bound  together  in  no  such  partnership.  Each  of 
them  was  accountable  for  his  own  acts,  for  the  use  which  he 
made  of  his  own  official  seal,  for  the  documents  which  he 
signed,  for  the  counsel  which  he  gave  to  the  King.  No  states- 
man was  held  answerable  for  what  he  had  not  himself  done, 
or  induced  others  to  do.  If  he  took  care  not  to  be  the  agent 
in  what  was  wrong,  and  if,  when  consulted,  he  recommended 
what  was  right,  he  was  blameless.  It  would  have  been  thought 
strange  scrupulosity  in  him  to  quit  his  post  because  his  advice 
as  to  matters  not  strictly  within  his  own  department  was  not 
taken  by  his  master ;  to  leave  the  Board  of  Admiralty,  for  ex- 
ample, because  the  finances  were  in  disorder,  or  the  Board  of 
Treasury  because  the  foreign  relations  of  the  kingdom  were 
in  an  unsatisfactory  state.  It  was,  therefore,  by  no  means  un- 
usual to  see  in  high  office  at  the  same  time  men  who  avow- 
edly differed  from  one  another  as  widely  as  ever  Pulteney 
differed  from  "Walpole,  or  Fox  from  Pitt. 

The  moderate  and  constitutional  counsels  of  Halifax  were 
timidly  and  feebly  seconded  by  Francis  North,  Lord  Guild- 
Lord  GUM-  ford,  who  had  lately  been  made  Keeper  of  the 
ford.  Great  Seal.  The  character  of  Guildford  has  been 

drawn  at  full  length  by  his  brother,  Roger  North,  a  most  in- 

*          *  North's  Examen,  69. 


256  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  Cn.  II. 

tolerant  Tory,  a  most  affected  and  pedantic  writer,  but  a  vig- 
ilant observer  of  all  those  minute  circumstances  which  throw 
light  on  the  dispositions  of  men.  It  is  remarkable  that  the 
biographer,  though  he  was  under  the  influence  of  the  strong- 
est fraternal  partiality,  and  though  he  was  evidently  anxious 
to  produce  a  flattering  likeness,  was  unable  to  portray  the 
Lord  Keeper  otherwise  than  as  the  most  ignoble  of  mankind. 
Yet  the  intellect  of  Guildford  was  clear,  his  industry  great, 
his  proficiency  in  letters  and  science  respectable,  and  his  legal 
learning  more  than  respectable.  His  faults  were  selfishness, 
cowardice,  and  meanness.  He  was  not  insensible  to  the  pow- 
er of  female  beauty,  nor  averse  from  excess  in  wine.  Yet  nei- 
ther wine  nor  beauty  could  ever  seduce  the  cautious  and  fru- 
gal libertine,  even  in  his  earliest  youth,  into  one  fit  of  indis- 
creet generosity.  Though  of  noble  descent,  he  rose  in  his 
profession  by  paying  ignominious  homage  to  all  who  pos- 
sessed influence  in  the  courts.  He  became  Chief -justice  of 
the  Common  Pleas,  and  as  such  was  party  to  some  of  the 
foulest  judicial  murders  recorded  in  our  history.  He  had 
sense  enough  to  perceive  from  the  first  that  Gates  and  Bed- 
loe  were  impostors :  but  the  Parliament  and  the  country  were 
greatly  excited ;  the  government  had  yielded  to  the  pressure  ; 
and  North  was  not  a  man  to  risk  a  good  place  for  the  sake  of 
justice  and  humanity.  Accordingly,  while  he  was  in  secret 
drawing  up  a  refutation  of  the  whole  romance  of  the  Popish 
Plot,  he  declared  in  public  that  the  truth  of  the  story  was  as 
plain  as  the  sun  in  heaven,  and  was  not  ashamed  to  browbeat, 
from  the  seat  of  judgment,  the  unfortunate  Roman  Catholics 
who  were  arraigned  before  him  for  their  lives.  He  had  at 
length  reached  the  highest  post  in  the  law.  But  a  lawyer 
who,  after  many  years  devoted  to  professional  labor,  engages 
in  politics  for  the  first  time  at  an  advanced  period  of  life, 
seldom  distinguishes  himself  as  a  statesman;  and  Guildford 
was  no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  lie  was,  indeed,  so  sen- 
sible of  his  deficiencies  that  he  never  attended  the  meetings 
of  his  colleagues  on  foreign  affairs.  Even  on  questions  relat 
ing  to  his  own  profession  his  opinion  had  less  weight  at  the 
Council  board  than  that  of  anv  man  who  lias  ever  held  the 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  257 

Great  Seal.  Such  as  his  influence  was,  however,  he  used  it,  as 
far  as  he  dared,  on  the  side  of  the  laws. 

The  chief  opponent  of  Halifax  was  Lawrence  Hyde,  who 
had  recently  been  created  Earl  of  Rochester.  Of  all  Tories, 
Rochester  was  the  most  intolerant  and  uncompromising.  The 
moderate  members  of  his  party  complained  that  the  whole 
patronage  of  the  Treasury,  while  he  was  First  Commissioner 
there,  went  to  noisy  zealots,  whose  only  claim  to  promotion 
was  that  they  were  always  drinking  confusion  to  Whiggery, 
and  lighting  bonfires  to  burn  the  Exclusion  Bill.  The  Duke 
of  York,  pleased  with  a  spirit  which  so  much  resembled  his 
own,  supported  his  brother-in-law  passionately  and  obstinately. 

The  attempts  of  the  rival  ministers  to  surmount  and  sup- 
plant each  other  kept  the  court  in  incessant  agitation.  Hali- 
fax pressed  the  King  to  summon  a  parliament,  to  grant  a  gen- 
eral amnesty,  to  deprive  the  Duke  of  York  of  all  share  in  the 
government,  to  recall  Monmouth  from  banishment,  to  break 
with  Lewis,  and  to  form  a  close  union  with  Holland  on  the 
principles  of  the  Triple  Alliance.  The  Duke  of  York,  on  the 
other  hand,  dreaded  the  meeting  of  a  parliament,  regarded 
the  vanquished  Whigs  with  undiminished  hatred,  still  flat- 
tered himself  that  the  design  formed  fourteen  years  before  at 
Dover  might  be  accomplished,  daily  represented  to  his  brother 
the  impropriety  of  suffering  one  who  was  at  heart  a  republi- 
can to  hold  the  Privy  Seal,  and  strongly  recommended  Roch- 
ester for  the  great  place  of  Lord  Treasurer. 

While  the  two  factions  were  struggling,  Godolphin,  cau- 
tious, silent,  and  laborious,  observed  a  neutrality  between 
them.  Sunderland,  with  his  usual  restless  perfidy,  intrigued 
against  them  both.  He  had  been  turned  out  of  office  in  dis- 
grace for  having  voted  in  favor  of  the  Exclusion  Bill,  but  had 
made  his  peace  by  employing  the  good  offices  of  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth  and  by  cringing  to  the  Duke  of  York,  and 
was  once  more  Secretary  of  State. 

Nor  was  Lewis  negligent  or  inactive.  Everything  at  that 
Policy  of  moment  favored  his  designs.  He  had  nothing  to 
Lewis.  apprehend  from  the  German  empire,  which  was 

then  contending  against  the  Turks  on  the  Danube.  Holland 

I.— 17 


258  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  CH.  II. 

could  not,  unsupported,  venture  to  oppose  him.  He  was 
therefore  at  liberty  to  indulge  his  ambition  and  insolence 
without  restraint.  He  seized  Strasburg,  Courtray,  Luxem- 
burg. He  exacted  from  the  republic  of  Genoa  the  most 
humiliating  submissions.  The  power  of  France  at  that  time 
reached  a  higher  point  than  it  ever  before  or  ever  after  at- 
tained, during  the  ten  centuries  which  separated  the  reign  of 
Charlemagne  from  the  reign  of  Napoleon.  It  was  not  easy 
to  say  where  her  acquisitions  would  stop,  if  only  England 
could  be  kept  in  a  state  of  vassalage.  The  first  object  of  the 
court  of  Versailles  was  therefore  to  prevent  the  calling  of  a 
parliament  and  the  reconciliation  of  English  parties.  For 
this  end  bribes,  promises,  and  menaces  were  unsparingly  em- 
ployed. Charles  was  sometimes  allured  by  the  hope  of  a 
subsidy,  and  sometimes  frightened  by  being  told  that,  if  he 
convoked  the  Houses,  the  secret  articles  of  the  treaty  of 
Dover  should  be  published.  Several  privy  councillors  were 
bought ;  and  attempts  were  made  to  buy  Halifax,  but  in  vain. 
When  he  had  been  found  incorruptible,  all  the  art  and  influ- 
ence of  the  French  embassy  were  employed  to  drive  him  from 
office :  but  his  polished  wit  and  his  various  accomplishments 
had  made  him  so  agreeable  to  his  master,  that  the  design 
failed.* 

Halifax  was  not  content  with  standing  on  the  defensive. 
He  openly  accused  Rochester  of  malversation.  An  inquiry 
took  place.  It  appeared  that  forty  thousand  pounds  had  been 
lost  to  the  public  by  the  mismanagement  of  the  First  Lord  of 
the  Treasury.  In  consequence  of  this  discovery,  he  was  not 
only  forced  to  relinquish  his  hopes  of  the  white  staff,  but  was 
removed  from  the  direction  of  the  finances  to  the  more  dig- 

*  Lord  Preston,  who  was  envoy  at  Paris,  wrote  thence  to  Halifax  as  follows : 
"  I  find  that  your  lordship  lies  still  under  the  same  misfortune  of  being  no  favor- 
ite to  this  court ;  and  Monsieur  Barillon  dare  not  do  you  the  honor  to  shine  upon 
you,  since  his  master  frowneth.  They  know  very  well  your  lordship's  qualifica- 
tions, which  make  them  fear  and  consequently  hate  you ;  and  be  assured,  my  lord, 
if  all  their  strength  can  send  you  to  Rufford,  it  shall  be  employed  for  that  end. 
Two  things,  I  hear,  they  particularly  object  against  you — your  secrecy,  and  your 
being  incapable  of  being  corrupted.  Against  these  two  things  I  know  they  have 
declared."  The  date  of  the  letter  is  October  5,  N.  s.  1683. 


CH.  II.  UNDER  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  259 

nified  but  less  lucrative  and  important  post  of  Lord  Presi- 
dent. "  I  have  seen  people  kicked  down-stairs,"  said  Hali- 
fax ;  "  but  my  Lord  Rochester  is  the  first  person  that  I  ever 
saw  kicked  up-stairs."  Godolphin,  now  a  peer,  became  First 
Commissioner  of  the  Treasury. 

Still,  however,  the  contest  continued.  The  event  depended 
wholly  on  the  will  of  Charles;  and  Charles  could  not  come 
state  of  fac-  *°  a  decision.  In  his  perplexity  he  promised  every- 
co°urVofthe  thing  to  everybody.  He  would  stand  by  France: 
«maerof  wsthe  ne  would  break  with  France :  he  would  never  meet 
death.  another  parliament :  he  would  order  writs  for  a  par- 

liament to  be  issued  without  delay.  He  assured  the  Duke  of 
York  that  Halifax  should  be  dismissed  from  office,  and  Hali- 
fax that  the  Duke  should  be  sent  to  Scotland.  In  public  he 
affected  implacable  resentment  against  Monmouth,  and  in  pri- 
vate conveyed  to  Monmouth  assurances  of  unalterable  affec- 
tion. How  long,  if  the  King's  life  had  been  protracted,  his 
hesitation  would  have  lasted,  and  what  would  have  been  his 
resolve,  can  only  be  conjectured.  Early  in  the  year  1685, 
while  hostile  parties  were  anxiously  awaiting  his  determina- 
tion, he  died,  and  a  new  scene  opened.  In  a  few  months  the 
excesses  of  the  government  obliterated  the  impression  which 
had  been  made  on  the  public  mind  by  the  excesses  of  the  Op- 
position. The  violent  reaction  which  had  laid  the  Whig  party 
prostrate  was  followed  by  a  still  more  violent  reaction  in  the 
opposite  direction ;  and  signs  not  to  be  mistaken  indicated 
that  the  great  conflict  between  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown 
and  the  privileges  of  the  Parliament  was  about  to  be  brought 
to  a  final  issue. 


260  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 


CHAPTER  III. 

I  INTEND,  in  this  chapter,  to  give  a  description  of  the  state 
in  which  England  was  at  the  time  when  the  crown  passed 
from  Charles  the  Second  to  his  brother.  Such  a  description, 
composed  from  scanty  and  dispersed  materials,  must  necessa- 
rily be  very  imperfect.  Yet  it  may  perhaps  correct  some 
false  notions  which  would  make  the  subsequent  narrative  un- 
intelligible or  uninstructive. 

If  we  would  study  with  profit  the  history  of  our  ancestors, 
we  must  be  constantly  on  our  guard  against  that  delusion 
which  the  well-known  names  of  families,  places,  and  offices 
naturally  produce,  and  must  never  forget  that  the  country 
of  which  we  read  was  a  very  different  country  from  that  in 
which  we  live.  In  every  experimental  science  there  is  a  ten- 
idency  toward  perfection.  In  every  human  being  there  is  a 
wish  to  ameliorate  his  own  condition.  These  two  principles 
have  often  sufficed,  even  when  counteracted  by  great  public 
calamities  and  by  bad  institutions,  to  carry  civilization  rapid- 
ly forward.  No  ordinary  misfortune,  no  ordinary  misgovern- 
ment,  will  do  so  much  to  make  a  nation  wretched,  as  the  con- 
stant progress  of  physical  knowledge  and  the  constant  effort 
of  every  man  to  better  himself  will  do  to  make  a  nation  pros- 
perous. It  has  often  been  found  that  profuse  expenditure, 
heavy  taxation,  absurd  commercial  restrictions,  corrupt  tribu- 
nals, disastrous  wars,  seditions,  persecutions,  conflagrations,  in- 
undations, have  not  been  able  to  destroy  capital  so  fast  as  the 
exertions  of  private  citizens  have  been  able  to  create  it.  It 
can  easily  be  proved  that,  in  our  own  land,  the  national  wealth 
has,  during  at  least  six  centuries,  been  almost  uninterruptedly 
increasing ;  that  it  was  greater  under  the  Tudors  than  under 
the  Plantagenets ;  that  it  was  greater  under  the  Stuarts  than 
under  the  Tudors ;  that,  in  spite  of  battles,  sieges,  and  confis- 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  261 

cations,  it  was  greater  on  the  day  of  the  Restoration  than  on 
the  day  when  the  Long  Parliament  met ;  that,  in  spite  of  mal- 
administration, of  extravagance,  of  public  bankruptcy,  of  two 
costly  and  unsuccessful  wars,  of  the  pestilence  and  of  the  fire, 
it  was  greater  on  the  day  of  the  death  of  Charles  the  Second 
than  on  the  day  of  his  Restoration.  This  progress,  having 
continued  during  many  ages,  became  at  length,  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  eighteenth  century,  portentously  rapid,  and  has  pro- 
ceeded, daring  the  nineteenth,  with  accelerated  velocity.  In 
consequence  partly  of  our  geographical  and  partly  of  our 
moral  position,  we  have,  during  several  generations,  been  ex- 
empt from  evils  which  have  elsewhere  impeded  the  efforts 
and  destroyed  the  fruits  of  industry.  While  every  part  of 
the  Continent,  from  Moscow  to  Lisbon,  has  been  the  theatre 
of  bloody  and  devastating  wars,  no  hostile  standard  has  been 
seen  here  but  as  a  trophy.  While  revolutions  have  taken 
place  all  around  us,  our  government  has  never  once  been  sub- 
verted by  violence.  During  more  than  a  hundred  years  there 
has  been  in  our  island  no  tumult  of  sufficient  importance  to  be 
called  an  insurrection ;  nor  has  the  law  been  once  borne  down 
either  by  popular  fury  or  by  regal  tyranny  :  public  credit  has 
been  held  sacred :  the  administration  of  justice  has  been  pure : 
even  in  times  which  might  by  Englishmen  be  justly  called 
evil  times,  we  have  enjoyed  what'  almost  every  other  nation 
in  the  world  would  have  considered  as  an  ample  measure  of 
civil  and  religious  freedom.  Every  man  has  felt  entire  con- 
fidence that  the  state  would  protect  him  in  the  possession  of 
what  had  been  earned  by  his  diligence  and  hoarded  by  his 
self-denial.  Under  the  benignant  influence  of  peace  and  lib-j 
erty,  science  has  flourished,  and  has  been  applied  to  practical 
purposes  on  a  scale  never  before  known.  The  consequence 
Great  change  is  that  a  change  to  which  the  history  of  the  old 
EngundsYnc!  world  furnishes  no  parallel  has  taken  place  in  our 
less.  country.  Could  the  England  of  1685  be,  by  some 

magical  process,  set  before  our  eyes,  we  should  not  know  one 
landscape  in  a  hundred  or  one  building  in  ten  thousand.  The 
country  gentleman  would  not  recognize  his  own  fields.  The 
inhabitant  of  the  town  would  not  recognize  his  own  street. 


262  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

Everything  has  been  changed  but  the  great  features  of  nat- 
ure, and  a  few  massive  and  durable  works  of  human  art. 
We  might  find  out  Snowdon  and  Windermere,  the  Cheddar 
Cliffs  and  Beachy  Head.  We  might  find  out  here  and  there 
a  Norman  minster,  or  a  castle  which  witnessed  the  wars  of 
the  Roses.  But,  with  such  rare  exceptions,  everything  would 
be  strange  to  us.  Many  thousands  of  square  miles  which  are 
now  rich  corn  land  and  meadow,  intersected  by  green  hedge- 
rows, and  dotted  with  villages  and  pleasant  country  -  seats, 
would  appear  as  moors  overgrown  with  furze,  or  fens  aban- 
doned to  wild-ducks.  We  should  see  straggling  huts  built  of 
wood  and  covered  with  thatch,  where  we  now  see  manufact- 
uring towns  and  seaports  renowned  to  the  farthest  ends  of 
the  world.  The  capital  itself  would  shrink  to  dimensions  not 
much  exceeding  those  of  its  present  suburb  on  the  south  of 
the  Thames.  Not  less  strange  to  us  would  be  the  garb  and 
mariners  of  the  people,  the  furniture  and  the  equipages,  the 
interior  of  the  shops  and  dwellings.  Such  a  change  in  the 
state  of  a  nation  seems  to  be  at  least  as  well  entitled  to  the 
notice  of  a  historian  as  any  change  of  the  dynasty  or  of  the 
ministry.* 

One  of  the  first  objects  of  an  inquirer,  who  wishes  to  form 

a  correct  notion  of  the  state  of  a  community  at  a  given  time, 

must  be  to  ascertain  of  how  many  persons  that  com- 

Population  of  .  ^    L 

England  in  mumty  then  consisted.  Unfortunately  the  popula- 
tion of  England  in  1685  cannot  be  ascertained  with 
perfect  accuracy.  For  no  great  state  had  then  adopted  the 
wise  course  of  periodically  numbering  the  people.  All  men 
were  left  to  conjecture  for  themselves ;  and,  as  they  generally 
conjectured  without  examining  facts,  and  under  the  influence 
of  strong  passions  and  prejudices,  their  guesses  were  often 

*  During  the  interval  which  has  elapsed  since  this  chapter  was  written,  Eng- 
land has  continued  to  advance  rapidly  in  material  prosperity.  I  have  left  my 
text  nearly  as  it  originally  stood ;  but  I  have  added  a  few  notes  which  may  en- 
able the  reader  to  form  some  notion  of  the  progress  which  has  been  made  during 
the  last  nine  years ;  and,  in  general,  I  would  desire  him  to  remember  that  there  is 
scarcely  a  district  which  is  not  more  populous,  or  a  source  of  wealth  which  is  not 
more  productive,  at  present  than  in  1848  (1857). 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  263 

ludicrously  absurd.  Even  intelligent  Londoners  ordinarily 
talked  of  London  as  containing  several  millions  of  souls.  It 
was  confidently  asserted  by  many  that,  during  the  thirty-five 
years  which  had  elapsed  between  the  accession  of  Charles  the 
First  and  the  Restoration,  the  population  of  the  city  had  in- 
creased by  two  millions.*  Even  while  the  ravages  of  the 
plague  and  fire  were  recent,  it  was  the  fashion  to  say  that  the 
capital  still  had  a  million  and  a  half  of  inhabitants.f  Some 
persons,  disgusted  by  these  exaggerations,  ran  violently  into 
the  opposite  extreme.  Thus  Isaac  Vossius,  a  man  of  undoubt- 
ed parts  and  learning,  strenuously  maintained  that  there  were 
only  two  millions  of  human  beings  in  England,  Scotland,  and 
Ireland  taken  together.:}: 

We  are  not,  however,  left  without  the  means  of  correcting 
the  wild  blunders  into  which  some  minds  were  hurried  by  na- 
tional vanity  and  others  by  a  morbid  love  of  paradox.  There 
are  extant  three  computations  which  seem  to  be  entitled  to 
peculiar  attention.  They  are  entirely  independent  of  each 
other :  they  proceed  on  different  principles ;  and  yet  there  is 
little  difference  in  the  results. 

One  of  these  computations  was  made  in  the  year  1696  by 
Gregory  King,  Lancaster  herald,  a  political  arithmetician  of 
great  acuteness  and  judgment.  The  basis  of  his  calculations 
was  the  number  of  houses  returned  in  1690  by  the  officers 
who  made  the  last  collection  of  the  hearth-money.  The  con- 
clusion at  which  he  arrived  was  that  the  population  of  Eng- 
land was  nearly  five  millions  and  a  half  .§ 


*  Observations  on  the  Bills  of  Mortality,  by  Captain  John  Graunt  (Sir  William 
Petty),  chap.  xi. 

f  "  She  doth  comprehend 

Full  fifteen  hundred  thousand  which  do  spend 
Their  days  within." 

— Great  Britain's  Beauty,  1671. 

\  Isaac  Vossius,  De  Magnitudine  Urbium  Sinarum,  1685.  Vossius,  as  we  learn 
from  Saint  Evremond,  talked  on  this  subject  oftener  and  longer  than  fashionable 
circles  cared  to  listen. 

§  King's  Natural  and  Political  Observations,  1696.  This  valuable  treatise,  which 
ought  to  be  read  as  the  author  wrote  it,  and  not  as  garbled  by  Davenant,  will  be 
found  in  some  editions  of  Chalmers's  Estimate. 


H1STO11Y  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  HI. 

About  the  same  time  King  "William  the  Third  was  desirous 
to  ascertain  the  comparative  strength  of  the  religious  sects 
into  which  the  community  was  divided.  An  inquiry  was  in- 
stituted ;  and  reports  were  laid  before  him  from  all  the  dio- 
ceses of  the  realm.  According  to  these  reports,  the  number 
of  his  English  subjects  must  have  been  about  five  million  two 
hundred  thousand.* 

Lastly,  in  our  own  days,  Mr.  Fiulaison,  an  actuary  of  emi- 
nent skill,  subjected  the  ancient  parochial  registers  of  bap- 
tisms, marriages,  and  burials  to  all  the  tests  which  the  modern 
improvements  in  statistical  science  enabled  him  to  apply.  His 
opinion  was,  that,  at  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the 
population  of  England  was  a  little  under  five  million  two  hun- 
dred thousand  souls.f 

Of  these  three  estimates,  framed  without  concert  by  differ- 
ent persons  from  different  sets  of  materials,  the  highest,  which 
is  that  of  King,  does  not  exceed  the  lowest,  which  is  that  of 
Finlaison,  by  one -twelfth.  We  may,  therefore,  with  confi- 
dence pronounce  that,  when  James  the  Second  reigned,  Eng- 
land contained  between  five  million  and  five  million  five  hun- 
dred thousand  inhabitants.  On  the  very  highest  supposition 
she  then  had  less  than  one-third  of  her  present  population, 
and  less  than  three  times  the  population  which  is  now  col- 
lected in  her  gigantic  capital. 

The  increase  of  the  people  has  been  great  in  every  part  of 

the  kingdom,  but  generally  much  greater  in  the  northern  than 

in  the  southern  shires.     In  truth  a  large  part  of  the 

population       country  beyond  Trent  was,  down  to  the  eighteenth 

greater  in  the  J         J  ,  . 

north  than  in    century,  in   a  state  of  barbarism.     Physical   and 

the  south.  J'  *..,.'. 

moral  causes  had  concurred  to  prevent  civilization 
from  spreading  to  that  region.  The  air  was  inclement ;  the 
soil  was  generally  such  as  required  skilful  and  industrious  cul- 

*  Dalrymple's  Appendix  to  Part  II.,  Book  I.  The  practice  of  reckoning  the 
population  by  sects  was  long  fashionable.  Gulliver  says  of  the  King  of  Brobding- 
nag :  "  He  laughed  at  my  odd  arithmetic,  as  he  was  pleased  to  call  it,  in  reckoning 
the  numbers  of  our  people  by  a  computation  drawn  from  the  several  sects  among 
us  in  religion  and  politics." 

t  Preface  to  the  Population  Returns  of  1831. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  265 

tivation ;  and  there  could  be  little  skill  or  industry  in  a  tract 
which  was  often  the  theatre  of  war,  and  which,  even  when 
there  was  nominal  peace,  was  constantly  desolated  by  bands 
of  Scottish  marauders.  Before  the  union  of  the  two  British 
crowns,  and  long  after  that  union,  there  was  as  great  a  differ- 
ence between  Middlesex  and  Northumberland  as  there  now  is 
between  Massachusetts  and  the  settlements  of  those  squatters 
who,  far  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi,  administer  a  rude  jus- 
tice with  the  rifle  and  the  dagger.  In  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  Second,  the  traces  left  by  ages  of  slaughter  and  pillage 
were  distinctly  perceptible,  many  miles  south  of  the  Tweed, 
in  the  face  of  the  country  and  in  the  lawless  manners  of  the 
people.  There  was  still  a  large  class  of  moss-troopers,  whose 
calling  was  to  plunder  dwellings  and  to  drive  away  whole 
herds  of  cattle.  It  was  found  necessary,  soon  after  the  Res- 
toration, to  enact  laws  of  great  severity  for  the  prevention  of 
these  outrages.  The  magistrates  of  Northumberland  and 
Cumberland  were  authorized  to  raise  bands  of  armed  men  for 
the  defence  of  property  and  order;  and  provision  was  made 
for  meeting  the  expense  of  these  levies  by  local  taxation.* 
The  parishes  were  required  to  keep  blood-hounds  for  the  pur- 
pose of  hunting  the  freebooters.  Many  old  men  who  were 
living  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  could  well  re- 
member the  time  when  those  ferocious  dogs  were  common. f 
Yet,  even  with  such  auxiliaries,  it  was  often  found  impossible 
to  track  the  robbers  to  their  retreats  among  the  hills  and 
morasses.  For  the  geography  of  that  wild  country  was  very 
imperfectly  known.  Even  after  the  accession  of  George  the 
Third,  the  path  over  the  fells  from  Borrowdale  to  Ravenglas 
was  still  a  secret  carefully  kept  by  the  dalesmen,  some  of 
whom  had  probably  in  their  youth  escaped  from  the  pursuit 
of  justice  by  that  road4  The  seats  of  the  gentry  and  the 
larger  farm-houses  were  fortified.  Oxen  were  penned  at  night 
beneath  the  overhanging  battlements  of  the  residence,  which 


*  Statutes  14  Car.  II.,  c.  22 ;  18  &  19  Car.  II.,  c.  3  ;  29  &  30  Car.  II.,  c.  2. 
f  Nicholson  and  Bourne,  Discourse  on  the  Ancient  State  of  the  Border,  1777. 
|  Gray's  Journal  of  a  Tour  in  the  Lakes,  Oct.  3, 1769. 


266  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

was  known  by  the  name  of  the  Peel.  The  inmates  slept  with 
arms  at  their  sides.  Huge  stones  and  boiling  water  were  in 
readiness  to  crush  and  scald  the  plunderer  who  might  venture 
to  assail  the  little  garrison.  No  traveller  ventured  into  that 
country  without  making  his  will.  The  judges  on  circuit, 
with  the  whole  body  of  barristers,  attorneys,  clerks,  and  ser- 
ving-men, rode  on  horseback  from  Newcastle  to  Carlisle,  armed 
and  escorted  by  a  strong  guard  under  the  command  of  the 
sheriffs.  It  was  necessary  to  carry  provisions ;  for  the  coun- 
try was  a  wilderness  which  afforded  no  supplies.  The  spot 
where  the  cavalcade  halted  to  dine,  under  an  immense  oak,  is 
not  yet  forgotten.  The  irregular  vigor  with  which  criminal 
justice  was  administered  shocked  observers  whose  lives  had 
been  passed  in  more  tranquil  districts.  Juries,  animated  by 
hatred  and  by  a  sense  of  common  danger,  convicted  house- 
breakers and  cattle-stealers  with  the  promptitude  of  a  court- 
martial  in  a  mutiny ;  and  the  convicts  were  hurried  by  scores 
to  the  gallows.*  Within  the  memory  of  some  whom  this 
generation  has  seen,  the  sportsman  who  wandered  in  pursuit 
of  game  to  the  sources  of  the  Tyne  found  the  heaths  round 
Keeldar  Castle  peopled  by  a  race  scarcely  less  savage  than  the 
Indians  of  California,  and  heard  with  surprise  the  half-naked 
women  chanting  a  wild  measure,  while  the  men  with  bran- 
dished dirks  danced  a  war-dance,  f 

Slowly  and  with  difficulty  peace  was  established  on  the  bor- 
der. In  the  train  of  peace  came  industry  and  all  the  arts  of 
life.  Meanwhile  it  was  discovered  that  the  regions  north  of 
the  Trent  possessed  in  their  coal-beds  a  source  of  wealth  far 
more  precious  than  the  gold-mines  of  Peru.  It  was  found 
that,  in  the  neighborhood  of  these  beds,  almost  every  man- 
ufacture might  be  most  profitably  carried  on.  A  constant 
stream  of  emigrants  began  to  roll  northward.  It  appeared 
by  the  returns  of  1841  that  the  ancient  archiepiscopal  province 
of  York  contained  two-sevenths  of  the  population  of  England. 


*  North's  Life  of  Guildford ;  Hutchinson's  History  of  Cumberland,  Parish  of 
Brampton. 

f  See  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Journal,  Oct.  7, 1827,  in  his  Life  by  Mr.  Lockhart. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  267 

At  the  time  of  the  Revolution  that  province  was  believed  to 
contain  only  one-seventh  of  the  population.*  In  Lancashire 
the  number  of  inhabitants  appears  to  have  increased  ninefold, 
while  in  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and  Northamptonshire  it  has  hardly 
doubled.f 

Of  the  taxation  we  can  speak  with  more  confidence  and 
precision  than  of  the  population.  The  revenue  of  England, 
Revenue  in  when  Charles  the  Second  died,  was  small,  when 
compared  with  the  resources  which  she  even  then 
possessed,  or  with  the  sums  which  were  raised  by  the  gov- 
ernments of  the  neighboring  countries.  It  had,  from  the 
time  of  the  Restoration,  been  almost  constantly  increasing : 
yet  it  was  little  more  than  three-fourths  of  the  revenue  of 
the  United  Provinces,  and  was  hardly  one-fifth  of  the  revenue 
of  France. 

The  most  important  head  of  receipt  was  the  excise,  which, 
in  the  last  year  of  the  reign  of  Charles,  produced  five  hun- 
dred and  eighty-five  thousand  pounds,  clear  of  all  deductions. 
The  net  proceeds  of  the  customs  amounted  in  the  same  year 
to  five  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  pounds.  These  burdens 
did  not  lie  very  heavy  on  the  nation.  The  tax  on  chimneys, 
though  less  productive,  called  forth  far  louder  murmurs.  The 
discontent  excited  by  direct  imposts  is,  indeed,  almost  always 
out  of  proportion  to  the  quantity  of  money  which  they  bring 
into  the  Exchequer ;  and  the  tax  on  chimneys  was,  even  among 
direct  imposts,  peculiarly  odious :  for  it  could  be  levied  only 
by  means  of  domiciliary  visits ;  and  of  such  visits  the  English 
have  always  been  impatient  to  a  degree  which  the  people  of 
other  countries  can  but  faintly  conceive.  The  poorer  house-* 
holders  were  frequently  unable  to  pay  their  hearth-money  to , 
the  day.  When  this  happened,  their  furniture  was  distrained 


*  Dalrymple,  Appendix  to  Part  II.,  Book  I.  The  returns  of  the  hearth-money 
lead  to  nearly  the  same  conclusion.  The  hearths  in  the  province  of  York  were 
not  a  sixth  of  the  hearths  of  England. 

•j-  I  do  not,  of  course,  pretend  to  strict  accuracy  here ;  but  I  believe  that  who- 
ever will  take  the  trouble  to  compare  the  last  returns  of  hearth-money  in  the 
reign  of  William  the  Third  with  the  census  of  1841,  will  come  to  a  conclusion  not 
very  different  from  mine. 


268  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

without  mercy :  for  the  tax  was  farmed ;  and  a  farmer  of 
taxes  is,  of  all  creditors,  proverbially  the  most  rapacious.  The 
collectors  were  loudly  accused  of  performing  their  unpopular 
duty  with  harshness  and  insolence.  It  was  said  that,  as  soon 
as  they  appeared  at  the  threshold  of  a  cottage,  the  children 
began  to  wail,  and  the  old  women  ran  to  hide  their  earthen- 
ware. Nay,  the  single  bed  of  a  poor  family  had  sometimes 
been  carried  away  and  sold.  The  net  annual  receipt  from 
this  tax  was  two  hundred  thousand  pounds.* 

When  to  the  three  great  sources  of  income  which  have 
been  mentioned  we  add  the  royal  domains,  then  far  more  ex- 
tensive than  at  present,  the  first-fruits  and  tenths,  which  had 
not  yet  been  surrendered  to  the  Church,  the  duchies  of  Corn- 
wall and  Lancaster,  the  forfeitures,  and  the  fines,  we  shall  find 
that  the  whole  annual  revenue  of  the  crown  may  be  fairly  es- 
timated at  about  fourteen  hundred  thousand  pounds.  Of  this 
revenue  part  was  hereditary :  the  rest  had  been  granted  to 
Charles  for  life ;  and  he  was  at  liberty  to  lay  out  the  whole 
exactly  as  he  thought  fit.  Whatever  he  could  save  by  re- 
trenching from  the  expenditure  of  the  public  departments 
was  an  addition  to  his  privy  purse.  Of  the  Post-office  more 

*  There  are  in  the  Pepysian  Library  some  ballads  of  that  age  on  the  chimney- 
money.  I  will  give  a  specimen  or  two : 

"  The  good  old  dames,  whenever  they  the  chimney  man  espied, 
Unto  their  nooks  they  haste  away,  their  pots  and  pipkins  hide. 
There  is  not  one  old  dame  in  ten,  and  search  the  nation  through, 
But,  if  you  talk  of  chimney  men,  will  spare  a  curse  or  two." 

Again : 

"  Like  plundering  soldiers  they'd  enter  the  door, 
And  make  a  distress  on  the  goods  of  the  poor, 
While  frighted  poor  children  distractedly  cried  : 
This  nothing  abated  their  insolent  pride." 

In  the  British  Museum  there  are  doggerel  verses  composed  on  the  same  subject 
and  in  the  same  spirit : 

"  Or,  if  through  poverty  it  be  not  paid, 
For  cruelty  to  tear  away  the  single  bed, 
On  which  the  poor  man  rests  his  weary  head, 
At  once  deprives  him  of  his  rest  and  bread." 

I  take  this  opportunity,  the  first  which  occurs,  of  acknowledging  most  gratefully 
the  kind  and  liberal  manner  in  which  the  Master  and  Vice-master  of  Magdalene 
College,  Cambridge,  gave  me  access  to  the  valuable  collections  of  Pepys. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  269 

will  hereafter  be  said.     The  profits  of  that  establishment  had 
been  appropriated  by  Parliament  to  the  Duke  of  York. 

The  King's  revenue  was,  or  rather  ought  to  have  been, 
charged  with  the  payment  of  about  eighty  thousand  pounds 
a  year,  the  interest  of  the  sum  fraudulently  detained  in  the 
Exchequer  by  the  Cabal.  While  Danby  was  at  the  head  of 
the  finances,  the  creditors  had  received  dividends,  though  not 
with  the  strict  punctuality  of  modern  times :  but  those  who 
had  succeeded  him  at  the  Treasury  had  been  less  expert,  or 
less  solicitous  to  maintain  public  faith.  Since  the  victory  • 
won  by  the  court  over  the  Whigs,  not  a  farthing  had  been 
paid ;  and  no  redress  was  granted  to  the  sufferers,  till  a  new 
dynasty  had  been  many  years  on  the  throne.  There  can  be 
no  greater  error  than  to  imagine  that  the  device  of  meeting 
the  exigencies  of  the  state  by  loans  was  imported  into  our 
island  by  William  the  Third.  What  really  dates  from  his 
reign  is  not  the  system  of  borrowing,  but  the  system  of  fund- 
ing. From  a  period  of  immemorial  antiquity  it  had  been  the 
practice  of  every  English  government  to  contract  debts.  What 
the  Revolution  introduced  was  the  practice  of  honestly  paying 
them,* 

By  plundering  the  public  creditor,  it  was  possible  to  make 
an  income  of  about  fourteen  hundred  thousand  pounds,  with 
some  occasional  help  from  Versailles,  support  the  necessary 
charges  of  the  government  and  the  wasteful  expenditure  of 
the  court.  Eor  that  load  which  pressed  most  heavily  on 
the  finances  of  the  great  continental  states  was  here  scarce- 
ly felt.  In  France,  Germany,  and  the  Netherlands,  armies, 
such  as  Henry  the  Fourth  and  Philip  the  Second  had  never 
employed  in  time  of  war,  were  kept  up  in  the  midst  of  peace. 
Bastions  and  ravelins  were  everywhere  rising,  constructed 
on  principles  unknown  to  Parma  and  Spinola.  Stores  of 
artillery  and  ammunition  were  accumulated,  such  as  even 
Richelieu,  whom  the  preceding  generation  had  regarded  as  a 
worker  of  prodigies,  would  have  pronounced  fabulous.  'No 


*  My  chief  authorities  for  this  financial  statement  will  be  found  iu  the  Com- 
mons' Journal,  March  1  and  March  20,  168§. 


270  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

man  could  journey  many  leagues  in  those  countries  without 
hearing  the  drums  of  a  regiment  on  march,  or  being  chal- 
lenged by  the  sentinels  on  the  drawbridge  of  a  fortress.  In 
/Military  sys-  our  island,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  possible  to  live 
long  and  to  travel  far,  without  being  once  remind- 
ed, by  any  martial  sight  or  sound,  that  the  defence  of  nations 
had  become  a  science  and  a  calling.  The  majority  of  Eng- 
lishmen who  were  under  twenty-five  years  of  age  had  proba- 
bly never  seen  a  company  of  regular  soldiers.  Of  the  cities 
which,  in  the  civil  war,  had  valiantly  repelled  hostile  armies, 
scarcely  one  was  now  capable  of  sustaining  a  siege.  The 
gates  stood  open  night  and  day.  The  ditches  were  dry.  The 
ramparts  had  been  suffered  to  fall  into  decay,  or  were  re- 
paired only  that  the  townsfolk  might  have  a  pleasant  walk 
on  summer  evenings.  Of  the  old  baronial  keeps  many  had 
been  shattered  by  the  cannon  of  Fairfax  and  Cromwell,  and 
lay  in  heaps  of  ruin,  overgrown  with  ivy.  Those  which  re- 
mained had  lost  their  martial  character,  and  were  now  rural 
palaces  of  the  aristocracy.  The  moats  were  turned  into  pre- 
serves 'of  carp  and  pike.  The  mounds  were  planted  with  fra- 
grant shrubs,  through  which  spiral  walks  ran  up  to  summer- 
houses  adorned  with  mirrors  and  paintings.*  On  the  capes 
of  the  sea-coast,  and  on  many  inland  hills,  were  still  seen  tall 
posts,  surmounted  by  barrels.  Once  those  barrels  had  been 
filled  with  pitch.  Watchmen  had  been  set  round  them  in 
seasons  of  danger ;  and,  within  a  few  hours  after  a  Spanish 
sail  had  been  discovered  in  the  Channel,  or  after  a  thousand 
Scottish  moss-troopers  had  crossed  the  Tweed,  the  signal-fires 
were  blazing  fifty  miles  off,  and  whole  counties  were  rising  in 
arms.  But  many  years  had  now  elapsed  since  the  beacons 
had  been  lighted ;  and  they  were  regarded  rather  as  curious 
relics  of  ancient  manners  than  as  parts  of  a  machinery  neces- 
sary to  the  safety  of  the  state.f 

The  only  army  which  the  law  recognized  was  the  militia. 
That  force  had  been  remodelled  by  two  acts  of  parliament 

*  See,  for  example,  the  picture  of  the  mound  at  Marlborough,  in  Stukeley's 
Itinerarium  Curiosum. 

f  Chamberlayne'a  State  of  England,  1684. 


Cu.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  271 

passed  shortly  after  the  Restoration.  Every  man  who  pos- 
sessed five  hundred  pounds  a  year  derived  from  land,  or  six 
thousand  pounds  of  personal  estate,  was  bound  to  provide, 
epuip,  and  pay,  at  his  own  charge,  one  horseman.  Every 
man  who  had  fifty  pounds  a  year  derived  from  land,  or  six 
hundred  pounds  of  personal  estate,  was  charged  in  like  man- 
ner with  one  pikeman  or  musketeer.  Smaller  proprietors 
were  joined  together  in  a  kind  of  society,  for  which  our  lan- 
guage does  not  afford  a  special  name,  but  which  an  Athenian 
would  have  called  a  Synteleia ;  and  each  society  was  required 
to  furnish,  according  to  its  means,  a  horse-soldier  or  a  foot- 
soldier.  The  whole  number  of  cavalry  and  infantry  thus 
maintained  was  popularly  estimated  at  a  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  men.* 

The  King  was,  by  the  ancient  constitution  of  the  realm, 
and  by  the  recent  and  solemn  acknowledgment  of  both 
Houses  of  Parliament,  the  sole  Captain-general  of  this  large 
force.  The  lords-lieutenants  and  their  deputies  held  the  com- 
mand under  him,  and  appointed  meetings  for  drilling  and 
inspection.  The  time  occupied  by  such  meetings,  however, 
was  not  to  exceed  fourteen  days  in  one  year.  The  justices 
of  the  peace  were  authorized  to  inflict  slight  penalties  for 
breaches  of  discipline.  Of  the  ordinary  cost  no  part  was 
paid  by  the  crown  :  but,  when  the  trainbands  were  called  out 
against  an  enemy,  their  subsistence  became  a  charge  on  the 
general  revenue  of  the  state,  and  they  were  subject  to  the 
utmost  rigor  of  martial  law. 

There  were  those  who  looked  on  the  militia  with  no  friend- 
ly eye.  Men  who  had  travelled  much  on  the  Continent,  who 
had  marvelled  at  the  stern  precision  with  which  every  senti- 
nel moved  and  spoke  in  the  citadels  built  by  Yauban,  who 
had  seen  the  mighty  armies  which  poured  along  all  the  roads 
of  Germany  to  chase  the  Ottoman  from  the  gates  of  Vienna, 
and  who  had  been  dazzled  by  the  well-ordered  pomp  of  the 
household  troops  of  Lewis,  sneered  much  at  the  way  in  which 


*  13  &  14  Car.  II.,  c.  3;  15  Car.  II.,  c.  4.     Chamberlayne's  State  of  England, 
1684. 


272  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

the  peasants  of  Devonshire  and  Yorkshire  marched  and  wheel- 
ed, shouldered  muskets  and  ported  pikes.  The  enemies  of 
the  liberties  and  religion  of  England  looked  with  aversion  on 
a  force  which  could  not,  without  extreme  risk,  be  employed 
against  those  liberties  and  that  religion,  and  missed  no  oppor- 
tunity of  throwing  ridicule  on  the  rustic  soldiery.*  Enlight- 
ened patriots,  when  they  contrasted  these  rude  levies  with 
the  battalions  which,  in  time  of  war,  a  few  hours  might  bring 
to  the  coast  of  Kent  or  Sussex,  were  forced  to  acknowledge 
that,  dangerous  as  it  might  be  to  keep  up  a  permanent  mili- 
tary establishment,  it  might  be  more  dangerous  still  to  stake 
the  honor  and  independence  of  the  country  on  the  result  of 
a  contest  between  ploughmen  officered  by  justices  of  the 
peace,  and  veteran  warriors  led  by  marshals  of  France.  In 
Parliament,  however,  it  was  necessary  to  express  such  opin- 
ions with  some  reserve ;  for  the  militia  was  an  institution  em- 
inently popular.  Every  reflection  thrown  on  it  excited  the 
indignation  of  both  the  great  parties  in  the  state,  and  espe- 
cially of  that  party  which  was  distinguished  by  peculiar  zeal 
for  monarchy  and  for  the  Anglican  Church.  The  array  of 
the  counties  was  commanded  almost  exclusively  by  Tory  no- 
blemen and  gentlemen.  They  were  proud  of  their  military 
rank,  and  considered  an  insult  offered  to  the  service  to  which 
they  belonged  as  offered  to  themselves.  They  were  also  per- 
fectly aware  that  whatever  was  said  against  a  militia  was  said 
in  favor  of  a  standing  army ;  and  the  name  of  standing  army 
was  hateful  to  them.  One  such  army  had  held  dominion  in 
England ;  and  under  that  dominion  the  King  had  been  mur- 

*  Drydcn,  in  his  Cymon  and  Iphigenia,  expressed,  with  his  usual  keenness  and  en- 
ergy, the  sentiments  which  had  been  fashionable  among  the  sycophants  of  James 

the  Second : 

"  The  country  rings  around  with  loud  alarms, 
And  raw  in  fields  the  rude  militia  swarms ; 
Mouths  without  hands,  maintained  at  vast  expense, 
In  peace  a  charge,  in  war  a  weak  defence. 
Stout  once  a  month  they  march,  a  blustering  band, 
And  ever,  but  in  time  of  need,  at  hand. 
This  was  the  morn  when,  issuing  on  the  guard, 
Drawn  up  in  rank  and  file,  they  stood  prepared 
Of  seeming  arms  to  make  a  short  essay, 
Then  hasten  to  be  drunk,  the  business  of  the  day." 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  273 

dered,  the  nobility  degraded,  the  landed  gentry  plundered, 
the  Church  persecuted.  There  was  scarcely  a  rural  grandee 
who  could  not  tell  a  story  of  wrongs  and  insults  suffered  by 
himself,  or  by  his  father,  at  the  hands  of  the  parliamentary 
soldiers.  One  old  Cavalier  had  seen  half  his  manor-house 
blown  up.  The  hereditary  elms  of  another  had  been  hewn 
down.  A  third  could  never  go  into  his  parish  church  with- 
out being  reminded,  by  the  defaced  scutcheons  and  headless 
statues  of  his  ancestry,  that  Oliver's  redcoats  had  once  stabled 
their  horses  there.  The  consequence  was  that  those  very 
Royalists,  who  were  most  ready  to  light  for  the  King  them- 
selves, were  the  last  persons  whom  he  could  venture  to  ask 
for  the  means  of  hiring  regular  troops. 

Charles,  however,  had,  a  few  months  after  his  restoration, 
begun  to  form  a  small  standing  army.  He  felt  that,  without 
some  better  protection  than  that  of  the  trainbands  and  beef- 
eaters, his  palace  and  person  would  hardly  be  secure,  in  the 
vicinity  of  a  great  city  swarming  with  warlike  Fifth  Mon- 
archy men  who  had  just  been  disbanded.  lie  therefore,  care- 
less and  profuse  as  he  was,  contrived  to  spare  from  his  pleas- 
ures a  sum  sufficient  to  keep  up  a  body  of  guards.  With  the 
increase  of  trade  and  of  public  wealth  his  revenues  increased  ; 
and  he  was  thus  enabled,  in  spite  of  the  occasional  murmurs 
of  the  Commons,  to  make  gradual  additions  to  his  regular 
forces.  One  considerable  addition  was  made  a  few  months 
before  the  close  of  his  reign.  The  costly,  useless,  and  pesti- 
lential settlement  of  Tangier  was  abandoned  to  the  barbarians 
who  dwelt  around  it ;  and  the  garrison,  consisting  of  one  reg- 
iment of  horse  and  two  regiments  of  foot,  was  brought  to 
England. 

The  little  army  formed  by  Charles  the  Second  was  the', 
ge_rm  of  that  great  and  renowned  army  wThich  has,  in  the  pres- 
ent century,  marched  triumphant  into  Madrid  and  Paris,  into 
Canton  and  Candahar.  The  Life  Guards,  who  now  form  two 
regiments,  were  then  distributed  into  three  troops,  each  of 
which  consisted  of  two  hundred. carabineers,  exclusive  of  offi- 
cers. This  corps,  to  which  the  safety  of  the  King  and  royal 
family  was  confided,  had  a  very  peculiar  character.  Even  the 

I.— 18 


274  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

privates  were  designated  as  gentlemen  of  the  Guard.  Many 
of  them  were  of  good  families,  and  had  held  commissions  in 
the  civil  war.  Their  pay  was  far  higher  than  that  of  the 
most  favored  regiment  of  our  time,  and  would  in  that  age 
have  been  thought  a  respectable  provision  for  the  younger 
son  of  a  country  squire.  Their  fine  horses,  their  rich  hous- 
ings, their  cuirasses,  and  their  buff  coats,  adorned  with  rib- 
bons, velvet,  and  gold  lace,  made  a  splendid  appearance  in 
Saint  James's  Park.  A  small  body  of  grenadier  dragoons, 
who  came  from  a  lower  class  and  received  lower  pay,  was  at- 
tached to  each  troop.  Another  body  of  household  cavalry, 
distinguished  by  blue  coats  and  cloaks,  and  still  called  the 
Blues,  was  generally  quartered  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
capital.  Near  the  capital  lay  also  the  corps  which  is  now  des- 
ignated as  the  first  regiment  of  Dragoons,  but  which  was  then 
the  only  regiment  of  dragoons  on  the  English  establishment. 
It  had  recently  been  formed  out  of  the  cavalry  which  had  re- 
turned from  Tangier.  A  single  troop  of  dragoons,  which  did 
not  form  part  of  any  regiment,  was  stationed  near  Berwick, 
for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  peace  among  the  moss-troopers 
of  the  border.  For  this  species  of  service  the  dragoon  was 
then  thought  to  be  peculiarly  qualified.  He  has  since  become 
a  mere  horse-soldier.  But  in  the  seventeenth  century  he  was 
accurately  described  by  Montecuculi  as  a  foot -soldier  who 
used  a  horse  only  in  order  to  arrive  with  more  speed  at  the 
place  where  military  service  was  to  be  performed. 

The  household  infantry  consisted  of  two  regiments,  which 
were  then,  as  now,  called  the  first  regiment  of  Foot  Guards, 
and  the  Coldstream  Guards.  They  generally  did  duty  near 
Whitehall  and  Saint  James's  Palace.  As  there  were  then  no 
barracks,  and  as,  by  the  Petition  of  Right,  it  had  been  declared 
unlawful  to  quarter  soldiers  on  private  families,  the  redcoats 
filled  all  the  ale-houses  of  Westminster  and  the  Strand. 

There  were  five  other  regiments  of  foot.  One  of  these, 
called  the  Admiral's  Regiment,  was  especially  destined  to 
service  on  board  of  the  fleet.  The  remaining  four  still  rank 
as  the  first  four  regiments  of  the  line.  Two  of  these  repre- 
sented two  brigades  which  had  long  sustained  on  the  Conti- 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  275 

nent  the  fame  of  British  valor.  The  first,  or  Royal  regiment, 
had,  under  the  great  Gustavus,  borne  a  conspicuous  part  in 
the  deliverance  of  Germany.  The  third  regiment,  distin- 
guished by  flesh-colored  facings,  from  which  it  had  derived 
the  well-known  name  of  the  Buffs,  had,  under  Maurice  of  Nas- 
sau, fought  not  less  bravely  for  the  deliverance  of  the  Nether- 
lands. Both  these  gallant  bands  had  at  length,  after  many 
vicissitudes,  been  recalled  from  foreign  service  by  Charles 
the  Second,  and  had  been  placed  on  the  English  establish- 
ment. 

The  regiments  which  now  rank  as  the  second  and  fourth  of 
the  line  had,  in  1685,  just  returned  from  Tangier,  bringing 
with  them  cruel  and  licentious  habits  contracted  in  a  long 
course  of  warfare  with  the  Moors.  A  few  companies  of  in- 
fantry which  had  not  been  regimented  lay  in  garrison  at  Til- 
bury Fort,  at  Portsmouth,  at  Plymouth,  and  at  some  other  im- 
portant stations  on  or  near  the  coast. 

Since  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century  a  great 
change  had  taken  place  in  the  arms  of  the  infantry.  The 
pike  had  been  gradually  giving  place  to  the  musket ;  and,  at 
the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  most  of  his  foot 
were  musketeers.  Still,  however,  there  was  a  large  intermixt- 
ure of  pikemen.  Each  class  of  troops  was  occasionally  in- 
structed in  the  use  of  the  weapon  which  peculiarly  belonged 
to  the  other  class.  Every  foot-soldier  had  at  his  side  a  sword 
for  close  fight.  The  musketeer  was  generally  provided  with 
a  weapon  which  had,  during  many  years,  been  gradually  com- 
ing into  use,  and  which  the  English  then  called  a  dagger,  but 
which,  from  the  time  of  William  the  Third,  has  been  known 
among  us  by  the  French  name  of  bayonet.  The  bayonet 
seems  not  to  have  been  then  so  formidable  an  instrument  of 
destruction  as  it  has  since  become ;  for  it  was  inserted  in  the 
muzzle  of  the  gun ;  and  in  action  much  time  was  lost  while 
the  soldier  unfixed  his  bayonet  in  order  to  fire,  and  fixed  it 
again  in  order  to  charge.  The  dragoon,  when  dismounted, 
fought  as/a  musketeer. 

The  regular  army  which  was  kept  up  in  England  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  year  1685  consisted,  all  ranks  included,  of  about 


276  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

seven  thousand  foot,  and  about  seventeen  hundred  cavalry  and 
dragoons.  The  whole  charge  amounted  to  about  two  hundred 
and  ninety  thousand  pounds  a  year,  less  than  a  tenth  part  of 
what  the  military  establishment  of  France  then  cost  in  time 
of  peace.  The  daily  pay  of  a  private  in  the  Life  Guards  was 
four  shillings,  in  the  Blues  two  shillings  and  sixpence,  in  the 
Dragoons  eighteen-pence,  in  the  Foot  Guards  tenpence,  and  in 
the  line  eightpence.  The  discipline  was  lax,  and  indeed  could 
not  be  otherwise.  The  common  law  of  England  knew  noth- 
ing of  courts -martial,  and  made  no  distinction,  in  time  of 
peace,  between  a  soldier  and  any  other  subject ;  nor  could  the 
government  then  venture  to  ask  even  the  most  loyal  parlia- 
ment for  a  Mutiny  Bill.  A  soldier,  therefore,  by  knocking 
down  his  colonel,  incurred  only  the  ordinary  penalties  of  as- 
sault and  battery,  and  by  refusing  to  obey  orders,  by  sleeping 
on  guard,  or  by  deserting  his  colors,  incurred  no  legal  penalty 
at  all.  Military  punishments  were  doubtless  inflicted  during 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second ;  but  they  were  inflicted 
very  sparingly,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  attract  public- 
notice,  or  to  produce  an  appeal  to  the  courts  of  Westminster 
Hall. 

Such  an  army  as  has  been  described  was  not  very  likely  to 
enslave  five  millions  of  Englishmen.  It  would  indeed  have 
been  unable  to  suppress  an  insurrection  in  London,  if  the 
trainbands  of  the  city  had  joined  the  insurgents.  Nor  could 
the  King  expect  that,  if  a  rising  took  place  in  England,  he 
would  obtain  effectual  help  from  his  other  dominions.  For, 
though  both  Scotland  and  Ireland  supported  separate  military 
establishments,  those  establishments  were  not  more  than  suffi- 
cient  to  keep  down  the  Puritan  malcontents  of  the  former 
kingdom,  and  the  Popish  malcontents  of  the  latter.  The  gov- 
ernment had,  however,  an  important  military  resource  which 
must  not  be  left  unnoticed.  There  were  in  the  pay  of  the 
United  Provinces  six  fine  regiments,  of  which  three  had  been 
raised  in  England  and  three  in  Scotland.  Their  native  prince 
had  reserved  to  himself  the  power  of  recalling  them,  if  he 
needed  their  help  against  a  foreign  or  domestic  enemy.  In 
the  mean  time  they  were  maintained  without  any  charge  to 


Cn.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  277 

him,  and  were  kept  under  an  excellent  discipline,  to  which  he 
could  not  have  ventured  to  subject  them.* 

If  the  jealousy  of  the  Parliament  and  of  the  nation  made 
it  impossible  for  the  King  to  maintain  a  formidable  standing 
army,  no  similar  impediment  prevented  him  from 
making  England  the  first  of  maritime  powers.  Both 
"Whigs  and  Tories  were  ready  to  applaud  every  step  tending 
to  increase  the  efficiency  of  that  force  which,  while  it  was  the 
best  protection  of  the  island  against  foreign  enemies,  was  pow- 
erless against  civil  liberty.  All  the  greatest  exploits  achieved 
within  the  memory  of  that  generation  by  English  soldiers  had 
been  achieved  in  war  against  English  princes.  The  victories 
of  our  sailors  had  been  won  over  foreign  foes,  and  had  averted 
havoc  and  rapine  from  our  own  soil.  By  at  least  half  the  na- 
tion the  battle  of  Naseby  was  remembered  with  horror,  and 
the  battle  of  Dunbar  with  pride  checkered  by  many  painful 
feelings ;  but  the  defeat  of  the  Armada,  and  the  encounters 
of  Blake  with  the  Hollanders  and  Spaniards,  were  recollected 
with  unmixed  exultation  by  all  parties.  Ever  since  the  Res- 
toration, the  Commons,  even  when  most  discontented  and 
most  parsimonious,  had  always  been  bountiful  to  profusion 
where  the  interest  of  the  navy  was  concerned.  It  had  been 
represented  to  them,  while  Danby  was  minister,  that  many  of 
the  vessels  in  the  royal  fleet  were  old  and  unfit  for  sea ;  and, 
although  the  House  was,  at  that  time,  in  no  giving  mood,  an 
aid  of  near  six  hundred  thousand  pounds  had  been  granted  for 
the  building  of  thirty  new  men-of-war. 

But  the  liberality  of  the  nation  had  been  made  fruitless  by 
the  vices  of  the  government.  The  list  of  the  King's  ships,  it 
is  true,  looked  well.  There  were  nine  first -rates,  fourteen 
second-rates,  thirty-nine  third-rates,  and  many  smaller  vessels. 
The  first-rates,  indeed,  were  less  than  the  third-rates  of  our 

*  Most  of  the  materials  which  I  have  used  for  this  account  of  the  regular  army 
will  be  found  in  the  Historical  Records  of  Regiments,  published  by  command  of 
King  William  the  Fourth,  and  under  the  direction  of  the  Adjutant-general.  See 
also  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684 ;  Abridgment  of  the  English  Military 
Discipline,  printed  by  especial  command,  1685 ;  Exercise  of  Foot,  by  their  Majes- 
ties' command,  1690. 


278  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  GH.  III. 

time  ;  and  the  third-rates  would  not  now  rank  as  very  large 
frigates.  This  force,  however,  if  it  had  been  efficient,  would 
in  those  days  have  been  regarded  by  the  greatest  potentate  as 
formidable.  But  it  existed  only  on  paper.  "When  the  reign 
of  Charles  terminated,  his  navy  had  sunk  into  degradation  and 
decay,  such  as  would  be  almost  incredible  if  it  were  not  certi- 
fied to  us  by  the  independent  and  concurring  evidence  of  wit- 
nesses whose  authority  is  beyond  exception.  Pepys,  the  ablest 
man  in  the  English  Admiralty,  drew  up,  in  the  year  1684,  a 
memorial  on  the  state  of  his  department,  for  the  information 
of  Charles.  A  few  months  later  Bonrepaux,  the  ablest  man 
in  the  French  Admiralty,  having  visited  England  for  the  espe- 
cial purpose  of  ascertaining  her  maritime  strength,  laid  the  re- 
sult of  his  inquiries  before  Lewis.  The  two  reports  are  to  the 
same  effect.  Bonrepaux  declared  that  he  found  everything 
in  disorder  and  in  miserable  condition,  that  the  superiority  of 
the  French  marine  was  acknowledged  with  shame  and  envy  at 
Whitehall,  and  that  the  state  of  our  shipping  and  dock-yards 
was  of  itself  a  sufficient  guarantee  that  we  should  not  meddle 
in  the  disputes  of  Europe.*  Pepys  informed  his  master  that 
the  naval  administration  was  a  prodigy  of  wastefulness,  cor- 
ruption, ignorance,  and  indolence,  that  no  estimate  could  be 
trusted,  that  no  contract  was  performed,  that  no  check  was 
enforced.  The  vessels  which  the  recent  liberality  of  Parlia- 
ment had  enabled  the  government  to  build,  and  which  had 
never  been  out  of  harbor,  had  been  made  of  such  wretched 
timber  that  they  were  more  unfit  to  go  to  sea  than  the  old 
hulls  which  had  been  battered  thirty  years  before  by  Dutch 
and  Spanish  broadsides.  Some  of  the  new  men-of-war,  in- 
deed, were  so  rotten  that,  unless  speedily  repaired,  they  would 
go  down  at  their  moorings.  The  sailors  were  paid  with  so 


*  I  refer  to  a  despatch  of  Bonrepaux  to  Seignelay,  dated  Feb.  •£$,  1686.  It  was 
transcribed  for  Mr.  Fox  from  the  French  archives,  during  the  peace  of  Amiens, 
and,  with  the  other  materials  brought  together  by  that  great  man,  was  intrusted 
to  me  by  the  kindness  of  the  late  Lady  Holland,  and  of  the  present  Lord  Holland. 
I  ought  to  add  that,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  troubles  which  have  lately  agitated 
Paris,  I  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining,  from  the  liberality  of  the  functionaries 
there,  extracts  supplying  some  chasms  in  Mr.  Fox's  collection  (1848). 


Cn.  III.  STATE   OF   ENGLAND  IN  1685.  279 

little  punctuality  that  they  were  glad  to  find  some  usurer  who 
would  purchase  their  tickets  at  forty  per  cent,  discount.  The 
commanders  who  had  not  powerful  friends  at  court  were  even 
worse  treated.  Some  officers,  to  whom  large  arrears  were  due, 
after  vainly  importuning  the  government  during  many  years, 
had  died  for  want  of  a  morsel  of  bread. 

Most  of  the  ships  which  were  afloat  were  commanded  by 
men  who  had  not  been  bred  to  the  sea.  This,  it  is  true,  was 
not  an  abuse  introduced  by  the  government  of  Charles.  No 
state,  ancient  or  modern,  had,  before  that  time,  made  a  com- 
plete separation  between  the  naval  and  military  services.  In 
the  great  civilized  nations  of  antiquity,  Ciraon  and  Lysander, 
Pompey  and  Agrippa,  had  fought  battles  by  sea  as  well  as  by 
land.  Nor  had  the  impulse  which  nautical  science  received 
at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century  produced  any  new  divis- 
ion of  labor.  At  Flodden  the  right  wing  of  the  victorious 
army  was  led  by  the  Admiral  of  England.  At  Jarnac  and 
Moncontour  the  Huguenot  ranks  were  marshalled  by  the  Ad- 
miral of  France.  Neither  John  of  Austria,  the  conqueror  of 
Lepanto,  nor  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  to  whose  direction 
the  marine  of  England  was  confided  when  the  Spanish  in- 
vaders were  approaching  our  shores,  had  received  the  educa- 
tion of  a  sailor.  Raleigh,  highly  celebrated  as  a  naval  com- 
mander, had  served  during  many  years  as  a  soldier  in  France, 
the  Netherlands,  and  Ireland.  Blake  had  distinguished  him- 
self by  his  skilful  and  valiant  defence  of  an  inland  town  be- 
fore he  humbled  the  pride  of  Holland  and  of  Castile  on  the 
ocean.  Since  the  Restoration  the  same  system  had  been  fol- 
lowed. Great  fleets  had  been  intrusted  to  the  direction  of 
Rupert  and  Monk ;  Rupert,  who  was  renowned  chiefly  as  a 
hot  and  daring  cavalry  officer,  and  Monk,  who,  when  he  wished 
his  ship  to  change  her  course,  moved  the  mirth  of  his  crew  by 
calling  out,  "  Wheel  to  the  left !" 

But  about  this  time  wise  men  began    to  perceive  that  the 
rapid  improvement,  both  of  the  art  of  war  and  of  the  art  o 
navigation,  made  it  necessary  to  draw  a  line  between  two  pr 
fessions  which  had  hitherto  been  confounded.      Either  the 
command  of  a  regiment  or  the  command  of  a  ship  was  now 


280  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

a  matter  quite  sufficient  to  occupy  the  attention  of  a  single 
mind.  In  the  year  1672  the  French  government  determined 
to  educate  young  men  of  good  family  from  a  very  early  age 
specially  for  the  sea-service.  But  the  English  government, 
instead  of  following  this  excellent  example,  not  only  contin- 
ued to  distribute  high  naval  commands  among  landsmen,  but 
selected  for  such  commands  landsmen  who,  even  on  land, 
could  not  safely  have  been  put  in  any  important  trust.  Any 
lad  of  noble  birth,  any  dissolute  courtier  for  whom  one  of  the 
King's  mistresses  would  speak  a  word,  might  hope  that  a  ship 
of  the  line,  and  with  it  the  honor  of  the  country  and  the  lives 
of  hundreds  of  brave  men,  would  be  committed  to  his  care. 
It  mattered  not  that  he  had  never  in  his  life  taken  a  voyage 
except  on  the  Thames,  that  he  could  not  keep  his  feet  in  a 
breeze,  that  he  did  not  know  the  difference  between  latitude 
and  longitude.  No  previous  training  was  thought  necessary ; 
or,  at  most,  he  was  sent  to  make  a  short  trip  in  a  man-of-war, 
where  he  was  subjected  to  no  discipline,  where  he  was  treated 
with  marked  respect,  and  where  he  lived  in  a  round  of  revels 
and  amusements.  If,  in  the  intervals  of  feasting,  drinking, 
and  gambling,  he  succeeded  in  learning  the  meaning  of  a  few 
technical  phrases  and  the  names  of  the  points  of  the  com- 
pass, he  was  thought  fully  qualified  to  take  charge  of  a  three- 
decker.  This  is  no  imaginary  description.  In  16G6,  John 
Sheffield,  Earl  of  Mulgrave,  at  seventeen  years  of  age,  volun- 
teered to  serve  at  sea  against  the  Dutch.  He  passed  six  wreeks 
on  board,  diverting  himself  as  well  as  he  could  in  the  society 
of  some  young  libertines  of  rank,  and  then  returned  home  to 
take  the  command  of  a  troop  of  horse.  After  this  he  was 
never  on  the  wrater  till  the  year  1672,  when  he  again  joined 
the  fleet,  and  was  almost  immediately  appointed  captain  of  a 
ship  of  eighty-four  guns,  reputed  the  finest  in  the  navy.  He 
was  then  twenty-three  years  old,  and  had  not,  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  life,  been  three  months  afloat.  As  soon  as  he 
came  back  from  sea  he  was  made  colonel  of  a  regiment  of 
foot.  This  is  a  specimen  of  the  manner  in  which  naval  com- 
mands of  the  highest  importance  were  then  given,  and  a  very 
favorable  specimen ;  for  Mulgrave,  though  he  wanted  expe- 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  281 

rience,  wanted  neither  parts  nor  courage.  Others  were  pro- 
moted in  the  same  way  who  not  only  were  not  good  officers, 
but  who  were  intellectually  and  morally  incapable  of  ever 
becoming  good  officers,  and  whose  only  recommendation  was 
that  they  had  been  ruined  by  folly  and  vice.  The  chief  bait 
which  allured  these  men  into  the  service  was  the  profit  of 
conveying  bullion  and  other  valuable  commodities  from  port 
to  port;  for  both  the  Atlantic  and  the  Mediterranean  were 
then  so  much  infested  by  pirates  from  Barbary  that  merchants 
were  not  willing  to  trust  precious  cargoes  to  any  custody  but 
that  of  a  man  -  of  -  war.  A  captain  might  thus  clear  several 
thousands  of  pounds  by  a  short  voyage ;  and  for  this  lucra- 
tive business  he  too  often  neglected  the  interests  of  his  coun- 
try and  the  honor  of  his  flag,  made  mean  submissions  to  for- 
eign powers,  disobeyed  the  most  direct  injunctions  of  his  su- 
periors, lay  in  port  when  he  was  ordered  to  chase  a  Sallee 
rover,  or  ran  with  dollars  to  Leghorn  when  his  instructions 
directed  him  to  repair  to  Lisbon.  And  all  this  he  did  with 
impunity.  The  same  interest  which  had  placed  him  in  a  post 
for  which  he  was  unfit  maintained  him  there.  No  admiral, 
bearded  by  these  corrupt  and  dissolute  minions  of  the  palace, 
dared  to  do  more  than  mutter  something  about  a  court-mar- 
tial. If  any  officer  showed  a  higher  sense  of  duty  than  his 
fellows,  he  soon  found  that  he  lost  money  without  acquiring 
honor.  One  captain,  who,  by  strictly  obeying  the  orders  of 
the  Admiralty,  missed  a  cargo  which  would  have  been  worth 
four  thousand  pounds  to  him,  was  told  by  Charles,  with  igno- 
ble levity,  that  he  was  a  great  fool  for  his  pains. 

The  discipline  of  the  navy  was  of  a  piece  throughout.  As 
the  courtly  captain  despised  the  Admiralty,  he  was  in  turn 
despised  by  his  crew.  It  could  not  be  concealed  that  he  was 
inferior  in  seamanship  to  every  foremast  man  on  board.  It 
was  idle  to  expect  that  old  sailors,  familiar  with  the  hurri- 
canes of  the  tropics  and  with  the  icebergs  of  the  Arctic  Cir- 
cle, would  pay  prompt  and  respectful  obedience  to  a  chief 
who  knew  no  more  of  winds  and  waves  than  could  be  learned 
in  a  gilded  barge  between  Whitehall  Stairs  and  Hampton 
Court.  To  trust  such  a  novice  with  the  working  of  a  ship 


282  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

was  evidently  impossible.  The  direction  of  the  navigation 
was  therefore  taken  from  the  captain  and  given  to  the  mas- 
ter :  but  this  partition  of  authority  produced  innumerable  in- 
conveniences. The  line  of  demarcation  was  not,  and  perhaps 
could  not  be,  drawn  with  precision.  There  was,  therefore, 
constant  wrangling.  The  captain,  confident  in  proportion  to 
his  ignorance,  treated  the  master  with  lordly  contempt.  The 
master,  well  aware  of  the  danger  of  disobliging  the  power- 
ful, too  often,  after  a  struggle,  yielded  against  his  better  judg- 
ment ;  and  it  was  well  if  the  loss  of  ship  and  crew  was  not 
the  consequence.  In  general  the  least  mischievous  of  the 
aristocratical  captains  were  those  who  completely  abandoned 
to  others  the  direction  of  the  vessels,  and  thought  only  of 
making  money  and  spending  it.  The  way  in  which  these 
men  lived  was  so  ostentatious  and  voluptuous  that,  greedy  as 
they  were  of  gain,  they  seldom  became  rich.  They  dressed 
as  if  for  a  gala  at  Versailles,  ate  off  plate,  drank  the  richest 
wines,  and  kept  harems  on  board,  while  hunger  and  scurvy 
raged  among  the  crews,  and  while  corpses  were  daily  flung 
out  of  the  port-holes. 

Such  was  the  ordinary  character  of  those  who  were  then 
called  gentlemen  captains.  Mingled  with  them  were  to  be 
found,  happily  for  our  country,  naval  commanders  of  a  very 
different  description,  men  whose  whole  life  had  been  passed 
on  the  deep,  and  who  had  worked  and  fought  their  way  from 
the  lowest  offices  of  the  forecastle  to  rank  and  distinction. 
One  of  the  most  eminent  of  these  officers  was  Sir  Christo- 
pher Mings,  who  entered  the  service  as  a  cabin-boy,  who  fell 
fighting  bravely  against  the  Dutch,  and  whom  his  crew,  weep- 
ing and  vowing  vengeance,  carried  to  the  grave.  From  him 
sprang,  by  a  singular  kind  of  descent,  a  line  of  valiant  and  ex- 
pert sailors.  His  cabin-boy  was  Sir  John  Narborough ;  and 
the  cabin-boy  of  Sir  John  Narborough  was  Sir  Cloudesley 
Shovel.  To  the  strong  natural  sense  and  dauntless  courage 
of  this  class  of  men  England  owes  a  debt  never  to  be  forgot- 
ten. It  was  by  such  resolute  hearts  that,  in  spite  of  much 
maladministration,  and  in  spite  of  the  blunders  and  treasons 
of  more  courtly  admirals,  our  coasts  were  protected  and  the 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  283 

reputation  of  our  flag  upheld  during  many  gloomy  and  per- 
ilous years.  But  to  a  landsman  these  tarpaulins,  as  they 
were  called,  seemed  a  strange  and  half-savage  race.  All  their 
knowledge  was  professional ;  and  their  professional  knowl- 
edge was  practical  rather  than  scientific.  Off  their  own  ele- 
ment they  were  as  simple  as  children.  Their  deportment  was 
uncouth.  There  was  roughness  in  their  very  good -nature; 
and  their  talk,  where  it  was  not  made  up  of  nautical  phrases, 
was  too  commonly  made  up  of  oaths  and  curses.  Such  were 
the  chiefs  in  whose  rude  school  were  formed  those  sturdy 
warriors  from  whom  Smollett,  in  the  next  age,  drew  Lieuten- 
ant Bowling  and  Commodore  Trunnion.  But  it  does  not  ap- 
pear that  there  was  in  the  service  of  any  of  the  Stuarts  a  sin- 
gle naval  officer  such  as,  according  to  the  notions  of  our  times, 
a  naval  officer  ought  to  be,  that  is  to  say,  a  man  versed  in  the 
theory  and  practice  of  his  calling,  and  steeled  against  all  the 
dangers  of  battle  and  tempest,  yet  of  cultivated  mind  and  pol- 
ished manners.  There  were  gentlemen  and  there  were  sea- 
men in  the  navy  of  Charles  the  Second.  But  the  seamen 
were  not  gentlemen ;  and  the  gentlemen  were  not  seamen. 

The  English  navy  at  that  time  might,  according  to  the  most 
exact  estimates  which  have  come  down  to  us,  have  been  kept 
in  an  efficient  state  for  three  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
pounds  a  year.  Four  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year  was 
the  sum  actually  expended,  but  expended,  as  we  have  seen, 
to  very  little  purpose.  The  cost  of  the  French  marine  was 
nearly  the  same ;  the  cost  of  the  Dutch  marine  considerably 
more.* 

The  charge  of  the  English  ordnance  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 

*  My  information  respecting  the  condition  of  the  navy,  at  this  time,  is  chiefly 
derived  from  Pepys.  His  report,  presented  to  Charles  the  Second  in  May,  1684, 
has  never,  I  believe,  been  printed.  The  manuscript  is  at  Magdalene  College,  Cam- 
bridge. At  Magdalene  College  is  also  a  valuable  manuscript  containing  a  detailed 
account  of  the  maritime  establishments  of  the  country  in  December,  1G84.  Pe- 
pys's  "  Memoirs  relating  to  the  State  of  the  Royal  Navy  for  Ten  Years,  determined 
December,  1688,"  and  his  diary  and  correspondence  during  his  mission  to  Tan- 
gier, are  in  print.  I  have  made  large  use  of  them.  See  also  Sheffield's  Memoirs, 
Teonge's  Diary,  Aubrey's  Life  of  Monk,  the  Life  of  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel,  1708, 
Commons'  Journals,  March  1  and  March  20, 168§. 


284:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  HI. 

tury  was,  as  compared  with  other  military  and  naval  charges, 
much  smaller  than  at  present.    At  most  of  the  gar- 

Tlie  ordnance. 

nsons  there  were  gunners ;  and  here  and  there,  at 
an  important  post,  an  engineer  was  to  be  found.  But  there 
was  no  regiment  of  artillery,  no  brigade  of  sappers  and  min- 
ers, no  college  in  which  young  soldiers  could  learn  the  sci- 
entific part  of  the  art  of  war.  The  difficulty  of  moving 
field-pieces  was  extreme.  When,  a  few  years  later,  William 
marched  from  Devonshire  to  London,  the  apparatus  which  he 
brought  with  him,  though  such  as  had  long  been  in  constant 
use  on  the  Continent,  and  such  as  would  now  be  regarded 
at  Woolwich  as  rude  and  cumbrous,  excited  in  our  ancestors 
an  admiration  resembling  that  which  the  Indians  of  America 
felt  for  the  Castilian  harquebusses.  The  stock  of  gunpowder 
kept  in  the  English  forts  and  arsenals  was  boastfully  men- 
tioned by  patriotic  writers  as  something  which  might  we.ll 
impress  neighboring  nations  with  awe.  It  amounted  to  four- 
teen or  fifteen  thousand  barrels,  about  a  twelfth  of  the  quan- 
tity which  it  is  now  thought  necessary  to  have  in  store.  The 
expenditure  under  the  head  of  ordnance  was  on  an  average  a 
little  above  sixty  thousand  pounds  a  year.* 

The  whole  effective  charge  of  the  army,  navy,  and  ordnance, 
was  about  seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds.  The 
Non-effective  non-effective  charge,  which  is  now  a  heavy  part  of 
our  public  burdens,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  ex- 
isted. A  very  small  number  of  naval  officers,  who  were  not 
employed  in  the  public  service,  drew  half-pay.  No  lieutenant 
was  on  the  list,  nor  any  captain  who  had  not  commanded  a 
ship  of  the  first  or  second  rate.  As  the  country  then  pos- 
sessed only  seventeen  ships  of  the  first  and  second  rate  that 
had  ever  been  at  sea,  and  as  a  large  proportion  of  the  persons 
who  had  commanded  such  ships  had  good  posts  on  shore,  the 
expenditure  under  this  head  must  have  been  small  indeed.f 

*  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684 ;  Commons'  Journals,  March  1  and 
March  20,  168$.  In  1833,  it  was  determined,  after  full  inquiry,  that  a  hundred 
and  seventy  thousand  barrels  of  gunpowder  should  constantly  be  kept  in  store. 

f  It  appears  from  the  records  of  the  Admiralty,  that  flag-officers  were  allowed 
half-pay  in  1668,  captains  of  first  and  second  rates  not  till  1674. 


Cir.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  285 

In  the  army,  half-pay  was  given  merely  as  a  special  and  tem- 
porary allowance  to  a  small  number  of  officers  belonging  to 
two  regiments,  which  were  peculiarly  situated.*  Greenwich 
Hospital  had  not  been  founded.  Chelsea  Hospital  was  build- 
ing :  but  the  cost  of  that  institution  was  defrayed  partly  by  a 
deduction  from  the  pay  of  the ,  troops,  and  partly  by  private 
subscription.  The  King  promised  to  contribute  only  twenty 
thousand  pounds  for  architectural  expenses,  and  five  thousand 
a  year  for  the  maintenance  of  the  invalids.f  It  was  no  part 
of  the  plan  that  there  should  be  out-pensioners.  The  whole 
non-effective  charge,  military  and  naval,  can  scarcely  have  ex- 
ceeded ten  thousand  pounds  a  year.  It  now  exceeds  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  a  day. 

Of  the  expense  of  civil  government  only  a  small  portion 
was  defrayed  by  the  crown.  The  great  majority  of  the  func- 
cimrge  of  civil  tionaries  whose  business  was  to  administer  justice 
government.  an(j  preserve  order  either  gave  their  services  to  the 
public  gratuitously,  or  were  remunerated  in  a  manner  which 
caused  no  drain  on  the  revenue  of  the  state.  The  sheriffs, 
mayors,  and  aldermen  of  the  towns,  the  country  gentlemen 
who  were  in  the  commission  of  the  peace,  the  head-boroughs, 
bailiffs,  and  petty  constables,  cost  the  King  nothing.  The 
superior  courts  of  law  were  chiefly  supported  by  fees. 

Our  relations  with  foreign  courts  had  been  put  on  the  most 
economical  footing.  The  only  diplomatic  agent  who  had  the 
title  of  ambassador  resided  at  Constantinople,  and  was  partly 
supported  by  the  Turkey  Company.  Even  at  the  court  of 
Versailles  England  had  only  an  envoy ;  and  she  had  not  even 
an  envoy  at  the  Spanish,  Swedish,  and  Danish  courts.  The 
whole  expense  under  this  head  cannot,  in  the  last  year  of 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  have  much  exceeded  twenty 
thousand  pounds. £ 

In  this  frugality  there  was  nothing  laudable.     Charles  was, 

*  Warrant  in  the  War  Office  Records,  dated  March  26,  1678. 

f  Evelyn's  Diary,  Jan.  27, 1682.  I  have  seen  a  privy  seal,  dated  May  17, 1683, 
which  confirms  Evelyn's  testimony. 

\  James  the  Second  sent  envoys  to  Spain,  Sweden,  and  Denmark ;  yet  in  his 
reign  the  diplomatic  expenditure  was  little  more  than  30,OOOZ.  a  year.  See  the 
Commons'  Journals,  March  20, 16f0.  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684, 1687. 


286  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

as  usual,  niggardly  in  the  wrong  place,  and  munificent  in  the 
wrong  place.     The  public  service  was  starved  that 

Great  gains  of  .  .    ,       ,  m, 

ministers  and    courtiers  might  be  pampered.     Hie  expense  of  the 

courtiers.  -  r  . 

navy,  of  the  ordnance,  ot  pensions  to  needy  old 
officers,  of  missions  to  foreign  courts,  must  seem  small  indeed 
to  the  present  generation.  But  the  personal  favorites  of  the 
sovereign,  his  ministers,  and  the  creatures  of  those  ministers, 
were  gorged  with  public  money.  Their  salaries  and  pensions, 
when  compared  with  the  incomes  of  the  nobility,  the  gentry, 
the  commercial  and  professional  men  of  that  age,  will  appear 
enormous.  The  greatest  estates  in  the  kingdom  then  very 
little  exceeded  twenty  thousand  a  year.  The  Duke  of  Or- 
mond  had  twenty-two  thousand  a  year.*  The  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, before  his  extravagance  had  impaired  his  great  prop- 
erty, had  nineteen  thousand  six  hundred  a  year.f  George 
Monk,  Duke  of  Albemarle,  who  had  been  rewarded  for  his 
eminent  services  with  immense  grants  of  crown  land,  and 
who  had  been  notorious  both  for  covetousness  and  for  parsi- 
mony, left  fifteen  thousand  a  year  of  real  estate,  and  sixty 
thousand  pounds  in  money,  which  probably  yielded  seven  per 
cent4  These  three  dukes  were  supposed  to  be  three  of  the 
very  richest  subjects  in  England.  The  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury can  hardly  have  had  five  thousand  a  year.§  The  average 
income  of  a  temporal  peer  was  estimated,  by  the  best  informed 
persons,  at  about  three  thousand  a  year,  the  average  income  of 
a  baronet  at  nine  hundred  a  year,  the  average  income  of  a 
member  of  the  House  of  Commons  at  less  than  eight  hundred 
a  year.  ||  A  thousand  a  year  was  thought  a  large  revenue  for  a 

*  Carte's  Life  of  Ormond.  f  Pepys's  Diary,  Feb.  14, 166|. 

\  See  the  Report  of  the  Bath  and  Montague  case,  which  was  decided  by  Lord 
Keeper  Somers,  in  December,  1693. 

§  During  three  quarters  of  a  year,  beginning  from  Christmas,  1689,  the  revenues 
of  the  see  of  Canterbury  were  received  by  an  officer  appointed  by  the  crown. 
That  officer's  accounts  are  now  in  the  British  Museum  (Lansdowne  MSS.  885). 
The  gross  revenue  for  the  three  quarters  was  not  quite  four  thousand  pounds ; 
and  the  difference  between  the  gross  and  the  net  revenue  was  evidently  something 
considerable. 

||  King's  Natural  and  Political  Conclusions.  Davenant  on  the  Balance  of 
Trade.  Sir  W.  Temple  says,  "  The  revenues  of  a  House  of  Commons  have  seldom 
exceeded  four  hundred  thousand  pounds."  Memoirs,  Third  Part. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  287 

barrister.  Two  thousand  a  year  was  hardly  to  be  made  in  the 
Court  of  King's  Bench,  except  by  the  crown  lawyers.*  It  is 
evident,  therefore,  that  an  official  man  would  have  been  well 
paid  if  he  had  received  a  fourth  or  fifth  part  of  what  would 
now  be  an  adequate  stipend.  In  fact,  however,  the  stipends 
of  the  higher  class  of  official  men  were  as  large  as  at  present, 
and  not  seldom  larger.  The  Lord  Treasurer,  for  example,  had 
eight  thousand  a  year,  and,  when  the  Treasury  was  in  com- 
mission, the  junior  Lords  had  sixteen  hundred  a  year  each. 
The  Paymaster  of  the  Forces  had  a  poundage,  amounting,  in 
time  of  peace,  to  about  five  thousand  a  year,  on  all  the  money 
which  passed  through  his  hands.  The  Groom  of  the  Stole 
had  five  thousand  a  year,  the  Commissioners  of  the  Customs 
twelve  hundred  a  year  each,  the  Lords  of  the  Bedchamber 
a  thousand  a  year  eacb.f  The  regular  salary,  however,  was 
the  smallest  part  of  the  gains  of  an  official  man  of  that  age. 
From  the  nobleman  who  held  the  white  staff  and  the  great 
seal,  down  to  the  humblest  tide-waiter  and  gauger,  what  would 
now  be  called  gross  corruption  was  practised  without  disguise 
and  without  reproach.  Titles,  places,  commissions,  pardons, 
were  daily  sold  in  market  overt  by  the  great  dignitaries  of 
the  realm ;  and  every  clerk  in  every  department  imitated,  to 
the  best  of  his  power,  the  evil  example. 

During  the  last  century  no  prime  minister,  however  pow- 
erful, has  become  rich  in  office ;  and  several  prime  ministers 
have  impaired  their  private  fortune  in  sustaining  their  pub- 
lic character.  In  the  seventeenth  century,  a  statesman  who, 
was  at  the  head  of  affairs  might  easily,  and  without  giving 
scandal,  accumulate  in  no  long  time  an  estate  amply  sufficient 
to  support  a  dukedom.  It  is  probable  that  the  income  of 
the  prime  minister,  during  his  tenure  of  power,  far  exceeded 
that  of  any  other  subject.  The  place  of  Lord-lieutenant  of 
Ireland  was  popularly  reported  to  be  worth  forty  thousand 
pounds  a  year.:}:  The  gains  of  the  Chancellor  Clarendon,  of 
Arlington,  of  Lauderdale,  and  of  Danby,  were  certainly  enor- 

*  Langton's  Conversations  with  Chief -justice  Hale,  1672. 

f  Commons'  Journals,  April  27,  1689 ;  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684. 
See  the  Travels  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo. 


288  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

mous.  The  sumptuous  palace  to  which  the  populace  of  Lon- 
don gave  the  name  of  Dunkirk  House,  the  stately  pavilions, 
the  fish-ponds,  the  deer-park  and  the  orangery  of  Euston,  the 
more  than  Italian  luxury  of  Ham,  with  its  busts,  fountains, 
and  aviaries,  were  among  the  many  signs  which  indicated 
what  was  the  shortest  road  to  boundless  wealth.  This  is 
the  true  explanation  of  the  unscrupulous  violence  with  which 
the  statesmen  of  that  day  struggled  for  office,  of  the  tenacity 
with  which,  in  spite  of  vexations,  humiliations,  and  dangers, 
they  clung  to  it,  and  of  the  scandalous  compliances  to  which 
they  stooped  in  order  to  retain  it.  Even  in  our  own  age,  for- 
midable as  is  the  power  of  opinion,  and  high  as  is  the  stand- 
ard of  integrity,  there  would  be  great  risk  of  a  lamentable 
change  in  the  character  of  our  public  men,  if  the  place  of 
First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  or  Secretary  of  State  were  worth 
a  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year.  Happily  for  our  country, 
the  emoluments  of  the  highest  class  of  functionaries  have  not 
only  not  grown  in  proportion  to  the  general  growth  of  our 
opulence,  but  have  positively  diminished. 

The  fact  that  the  sum  raised  in  England  by  taxation  has, 
in  a  time  not  exceeding  two  long  lives,  been  multiplied  forty- 
stateofagri-  fold,  is  strange,  and  may  at  first  sight  seem  appall- 
cuiture.  jjjg^  jju^  t]lose  W}1O  are  alarmed  by  the  increase  of 

the  public  burdens  may  perhaps  be  reassured  when  they  have 
considered  the  increase  of  the  public  resources.  In  the  year 
1685,  the  value  of  the  produce  of  the  soil  far  exceeded  the 
value  of  all  the  other  fruits  of  human  industry.  Yet  agricult- 
ure was  in  what  would  now  be  considered  as  a  very  rude  and 
imperfect  state.  The  arable  land  and  pasture  land  were  not 
supposed  by  the  best  political  arithmeticians  of  that  age  to 
amount  to  much  more  than  half  the  area  of  the  kingdom.'-" 
The  remainder  was  believed  to  consist  of  moor,  forest,  and 
fen.  These  computations  are  strongly  confirmed  by  the  road 
books  and  maps  of  the  seventeenth  century.  From  those 
books  and  maps  it  is  clear  that  many  routes  which  now  pass 
through  an  endless  succession  of  orchards,  corn-fields,  hay- 


King's  Natural  and  Political  Conclusions.     Davcnant  on  the  Balance  of  Trade. 


CK.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  289 

fields,  and  beau-fields,  then  ran  through  nothing  but  heath, 
swamp,  and  warren.*  In  the  drawings  of  English  landscapes 
made  in  that  age  for  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo,  scarce  a  hedge- 
row is  to  be  seen,  and  numerous  tracts,  now  rich  with  cultiva- 
tion, appear  as  bare  as  Salisbury  Plain.f  At  Enfield,  hardly 
out  of  sight  of  the  smoke  of  the  capital,  was  a  region  of  five- 
and- twenty  miles  in  circumference,  which  contained  only 
three  houses  and  scarcely  any  enclosed  fields.  Deer,  as  free 
as  in  an  American  forest,  wandered  there  by  thousands.:}:  It 
is  to  be  remarked,  that  wild  animals  of  large  size  were  then 
far  more  numerous  than  at  present.  The  last  wild-boars,  in- 
deed, which  had  been  preserved  for  the  royal  diversion,  and 
had  been  allowed  to  ravage  the  cultivated  land  with  their 
tusks,  had  been  slaughtered  by  the  exasperated  rustics  during 
the  license  of  the  civil  war.  The  last  wolf  that  has  roamed 
our  island  had  been  slain  in  Scotland  a  short  time  before  the 
close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second.  But  many  breeds, 
now  extinct  or  rare,  both  of  quadrupeds  and  birds,  were  still 
common.  The  fox,  whose  life  is  now,  in  many  counties,  held 
almost  as  sacred  as  that  of  a  human  being,  was  then  consid- 
ered as  a  mere  nuisance.  Oliver  Saint  John  told  the  Long 
Parliament  that  Strafford  was  to  be  regarded,  not  as  a  stag  or 
a  hare,  to  whom  some  law  was  to  be  given,  but  as  a  fox,  who 
was  to  be  snared  by  any  means,  and  knocked  on  the  head 
without  pity.  This  illustration  would  be  by  no  means  a 
happy  one,  if  addressed  to  country  gentlemen  of  our  time : 
but  in  Saint  John's  days  there  were  not  seldom  great  massa- 


*  See  the  Itinerarium  Angliae,  1675,  by  John  Ogilby,  Cosmographer  Royal.  He 
describes  great  part  of  the  land  as  wood,  fen,  heath  on  both  sides,  marsh  on  both 
sides.  In  some  of  his  maps  the  roads  through  enclosed  country  are  marked  by 
lines,  and  the  roads  through  unenclosed  country  by  dots.  The  proportion  of  un- 
enclosed country,  which,  if  cultivated,  must  have  been  wretchedly  cultivated,  seems 
to  have  been  very  great.  From  Abingdon  to  Gloucester,  for  example,  a  distance 
of  forty  or  fifty  miles,  there  was  not  a  single  enclosure,  and  scarcely  one  enclosure 
between  Biggleswade  and  Lincoln. 

f  Large  copies  of  these  highly  interesting  drawings  are  in  the  noble  collection 
bequeathed  by  Mr.  Grenville  to  the  British  Museum.  See  particularly  the  draw- 
ings of  Exeter  and  Northampton. 

t  Evelyn's  Diary,  June  2,  1675. 
I.— 19 


290  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  III. 

cres  of  foxes  to  which  the  peasantry  thronged  with  all  the 
dogs  that  could  be  mustered :  traps  were  set :  nets  were 
spread :  no  quarter  was  given ;  and  to  shoot  a  female  with 
cub  was  considered  as  a  feat  which  merited  the  warmest  grati- 
tude of  the  neighborhood.  The  red  deer  were  then  as  com- 
mon in  Gloucestershire  and  Hampshire  as  they  now  are  among 
the  Grampian  Hills.  On  one  occasion  Queen  Anne,  travel- 
ling to  Portsmouth,  saw  a  herd  of  no  less  than  five  hundred. 
The  wild-bull  with  his  white  mane  was  still  to  be  found  wan- 
dering in  a  few  of  the  southern  forests.  The  badger  made 
his  dark  and  tortuous  hole  on  the  side  of  every  hill  where  the 
copse-wood  grew  thick.  The  wild-cats  were  frequently  heard 
by  night  wailing  round  the  lodges  of  the  rangers  of  Whittle- 
bury  and  Needwood.  The  yellow-breasted  martin  was  still 
pursued  in  Cranbourne  Chase  for  his  fur,  reputed  inferior  only 
to  that  of  the  sable.  Fen  eagles,  measuring  more  than  nine 
feet  between  the  extremities  of  the  wings,  preyed  on  fish 
along  the  coast  of  Norfolk.  On  all  the  downs,  from  the  Brit- 
ish Channel  to  Yorkshire,  huge  bustards  strayed  in  troops  of 
fifty  or  sixty,  and  were  often  hunted  with  greyhounds.  The 
marshes  of  Cambridgeshire  and  Lincolnshire  were  covered 
during  some  months  of  every  year  by  immense  clouds  of 
cranes.  Some  of  these  races  the  progress  of  cultivation  has 
extirpated.  Of  others  the  numbers  are  so  much  diminished 
that  men  crowd  to  gaze  at  a  specimen  as  at  a  Bengal  tiger  or 
a  Polar  bear.* 

The  progress  of  this  great  change  can  nowhere  be  more 
clearly  traced  than  in  the  Statute-book.  The  number  of  en- 
closure acts  passed  since  King  George  the  Second  came  to 
the  throne  exceeds  four  thousand.  The  area  enclosed  under 
the  authority  of  those  acts  exceeds,  on  a  moderate  calculation, 
ten  thousand  square  miles.  How  many  square  miles,  which 
were  formerly  uncultivated  or  ill  cultivated,  have,  during  the 

*  See  White's  Selborne ;  Bell's  History  of  British  Quadrupeds ;  Gentleman's 
Recreation,  1686;  Aubrey's  Natural  History  of  Wiltshire,  1685  ;  Morton's  History 
of  Northamptonshire,  1712 ;  Willoughby's  Ornithology,  by  Ray,  1678;  Latham's 
General  Synopsis  of  Birds ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  Account  of  Birds  found  in 
Norfolk.  " 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  291 

same  period,  been  fenced  and  carefully  tilled  by  the  proprie- 
tors, without  any  application  to  the  legislature,  can  only  be 
conjectured.  But  it  seems  highly  probable  that  a  fourth  part 
of  England  has  been,  in  the  course  of  little  more  than  a  cen- 
tury, turned  from  a  wild  into  a  garden. 

Even  in  those  parts  of  the  kingdom  which  at  the  close  of 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  were  the  best  cultivated,  the 
farming,  though  greatly  improved  since  the  civil  war,  was  not 
such  as  would  now  be  thought  skilful.  To  this  day  no  effect- 
ual steps  have  been  taken  by  public  authority  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  accurate  accounts  of  the  produce  of  the  English 
soil.  The  historian  must  therefore  follow,  with  some  misgiv- 
ings, the  guidance  of  those  writers  on  statistics  whose  reputa- 
tion for  diligence  and  fidelity  stands  highest.  At  present  an 
average  crop  of  wheat,  rye,  barley,  oats,  and  beans,  is  supposed 
considerably  to  exceed  thirty  millions  of  quarters.  The  crop 
of  wheat  would  be  thought  wretched  if  it  did  not  exceed 
twelve  millions  of  quarters.  According  to  the  computation 
made  in  the  year  1696  by  Gregory  King,  the  whole  quantity 
of  wheat,  rye,  barley,  oats,  and  beans,  then  annually  grown  in 
the  kingdom,  was  somewhat  less  than  ten  millions  of  quar- 
ters. The  wheat,  which  was  then  cultivated  only  on  the 
strongest  clay,  and  consumed  only  by  those  who  were  in  easy 
circumstances,  he  estimated  at  less  than  two  millions  of  quar- 
ters. Charles  Davenant,  an  acute  and  well-informed  though 
most  unprincipled  and  rancorous  politician,  differed  from 
King  as  to  some  of  the  items  of  the  account,  but  came  to 
nearly  the  same  general  conclusions.* 

The  rotation  of  crops  was  very  imperfectly  understood.  It 
was  known,  indeed,  that  some  vegetables  lately  introduced 
into  our  island,  particularly  the  turnip,  afforded  excellent  nu- 
triment in  winter  to  sheep  and  oxen :  but  it  was  not  yet  the 
practice  to  feed  cattle  in  this  manner.  It  was,  therefore,  by 
no  means  easy  to  keep  them  alive  during  the  season  when 
the  grass  is  scanty.  They  were  killed  and  salted  in  great 
numbers  at  the  beginning  of  the  cold  weather ;  and,  during 

*  King's  Natural  and  Political  Conclusions ;  Davenant  on  the  Balance  of  Trade. 


292  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

several  months,  even  the  gentry  tasted  scarcely  any  fresh 
animal  food,  except  game  and  river  fish,  which  were  conse- 
quently much  more  important  articles  in  house-keeping  than 
at  present.  It  appears  from  the  Northumberland  Household 
Book  that,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  fresh  meat  was 
never  eaten  even  by  the  gentlemen  attendant  on  a  great  earl, 
except  during  the  short  interval  between  midsummer  and 
Michaelmas.  But  in  the  course  of  two  centuries  an  improve- 
ment had  taken  place ;  and  under  Charles  the  Second  it  was 
not  till  the  beginning  of  November  that  families  laid  in  their 
stock  of  salt  provisions,  then  called  Martinmas  beef.* 

The  sheep  and  the  ox  of  that  time  were  diminutive  when 
compared  with  the  sheep  and  oxen  which  are  now  driven  to 
our  markets.f  Our  native  horses,  though  serviceable,  were 
held  in  small  esteem,  and  fetched  low  prices.  They  were 
valued,  one  with  another,  by  the  ablest  of  those  who  com- 
puted the  national  wealth,  at  not  more  than  fifty  shillings 
each.  Foreign  breeds  were  greatly  preferred.  Spanish  jen- 
nets were  regarded  as  the  finest  chargers,  and  were  imported 
for  purposes  of  pageantry  and  war.  The  coaches  of  the  aris- 
tocracy were  drawn  by  gray  Flemish  mares,  which  trotted,  as 
it  was  thought,  with  a  peculiar  grace,  and  endured  better  than 
any  cattle  reared  in  our  island  the  work  of  dragging  a  pon- 
derous equipage  over  the  rugged  pavement  of  London.  Nei- 
ther the  modern  dray-horse  nor  the  modern  race-horse  was 
then  known.  At  a  much  later  period  the  ancestors  of  the 
gigantic  quadrupeds,  which  all  foreigners  now  class  among 
the  chief  wonders  of  London,  were  brought  from  the  marshes 
of  Walcheren ;  the  ancestors  of  Childers  and  Eclipse  from 
the  sands  of  Arabia.  Already,  however,  there  was  among  our 
nobility  and  gentry  a  passion  for  the  amusements  of  the  turf. 
The  importance  of  improving  our  studs  by  an  infusion  of 
new  blood  was  strongly  felt ;  and  with  this  view  a  considera- 
ble number  of  barbs  had  lately  been  brought  into  the  country. 
Two  men  whose  authority  on  such  subjects  was  held  in  great 

*  See  the  Almanacs  of  1684  and  1685. 

f  See  Mr.  M'Culloch's  Statistical  Account  of  the  British  Empire,  Part  III.,  Chap, 
i.,  Sec.  6. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  293 

esteem,  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  and  Sir  John  Fenwick,  pro- 
nounced that  the  meanest  hack  ever  imported  from  Tangier 
would  produce  a  finer  progeny  than  could  be  expected  from 
the  best  sire  of  our  native  breed.  They  would  not  readily 
have  believed  that  a  time  would  come  when  the  princes  and 
nobles  of  neighboring  lands  would  be  as  eager  to  obtain 
horses  from  England  as  ever  the  English  had  been  to  obtain 
horses  from  Barbary.* 

The  increase  of  vegetable  and  animal  produce,  though 
great,  seems  small  when  compared  with  the  increase  of  our 
Mineral  wealth  mineral  wealth.  In  1685  the  tin  of  Cornwall, 
of  the  country.  whicn  had,  more  than  two  thousand  years  before, 
attracted  the  Tyrian  sails  beyond  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  was 
still  one  of  the  most  valuable  subterranean  productions  of  the 
island.  The  quantity  annually  extracted  from  the  earth  was 
found  to  be,  some  years  later,  sixteen  hundred  tons,  probably 
about  a  third  of  what  it  now  is.f  But  the  veins  of  copper 
which  lie  in  the  same  region  were,  in  the  time  of  Charles  the 
Second,  altogether  neglected,  nor  did  any  land -owner  take 
them  into  the  account  in  estimating  the  value  of  his  property. 
Cornwall  and  Wales  at  present  yield  annually  near  fifteen 
thousand  tons  of  copper,  worth  near  a  million  and  a  half  ster- 
ling ;  that  is  to  say,  worth  about  twice  as  much  as  the  annual 
produce  of  all  English  mines  of  all  descriptions  in  the  seven- 
teenth century.:}:  The  first  bed  of  rock-salt  had  been  discov- 
ered in  Cheshire  not  long  after  the  Restoration,  but  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  worked  till  much  later.  The  salt,  which 


*  King  and  Davenant  as  before ;  The  Duke  of  Newcastle  on  Horsemanship ; 
Gentleman's  Recreation,  1686.  The  "dappled  Flanders  mares"  were  marks  of 
greatness  in  the  time  of  Pope,  and  even  later. 

The  vulgar  proverb,  that  the  gray  mare  is  the  better  horse,  originated,  I  suspect, 
in  the  preference  generally  given  to  the  gray  mares  of  Flanders  over  the  finest 
coach  horses  of  England. 

\  See  a  curious  note  by  Tonkin,  in  Lord  De  Dunstanville's  edition  of  Carew's 
Survey  of  Cornwall. 

\  Borlase's  Natural  History  of  Cornwall,  I'ZSS.  The  quantity  of  copper  now 
produced  I  have  taken  from  parliamentary  returns.  Davenant,  in  1700,  estimated 
the  annual  produce  of  all  the  mines  of  England  at  between  seven  and  eight  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds. 


294:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  Ill 

was  obtained  by  a  rude  process  from  brine  pits,  was  held  in 
no  high  estimation.  The  pans  in  which  the  manufacture  was 
carried  on  exhaled  a  sulphureous  stench ;  and,  when  the  evap- 
oration was  complete,  the  substance  which  was  left  was  scarce- 
ly fit  to  be  used  with  food.  Physicians  attributed  the  scor- 
butic and  pulmonary  complaints  which  were  common  among 
the  English  to  this  unwholesome  condiment.  It  was,  there- 
fore, seldom  used  by  the  upper  and  middle  classes ;  and  there 
was  a  regular  and  considerable  importation  from  France.  At 
present  our  springs  and  mines  not  only  suppljr  our  own  im- 
mense demand,  but  send  annually  more  than  seven  hundred 
millions  of  pounds  of  excellent  salt  to  foreign  countries.* 

Far  more  important  has  been  the  improvement  of  our  iron- 
works. Such  works  had  long  existed  in  our  island,  but  had 
not  prospered,  and  had  been  regarded  with  no  favorable  eye 
by  the  government  and  by  the  public.  It  was  not  then  the 
practice  to  employ  coal  for  smelting  the  ore  ;  and  the  rapid 
consumption  of  wood  excited  the  alarm  of  politicians.  As 
early  as  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  there  had  been  loud  complaints 
that  whole  forests  were  cut  down  for  the  purpose  of  feeding 
the  furnaces ;  and  the  Parliament  had  interfered  to  prohibit 
the  manufacturers  from  burning  timber.  The  manufacture 
consequently  languished.  At  the  close  of  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Second,  great  part  of  the  iron  which  was  used  in 
this  country  was  imported  from  abroad ;  and  the  whole  quan- 
tity cast  here  annually  seems  not  to  have  exceeded  ten  thou- 
sand tons.  At  present  the  trade  is  thought  to  be  in  a  de- 
pressed state  if  less  than  a  million  of  tons  are  produced  in  a 
year.f 

One  mineral,  perhaps  more  important  than  iron  itself,  re- 
mains to  be  mentioned.  Coal,  though  very  little  used  in  any 
species  of  manufacture,  was  already  the  ordinary  fuel  in  some 
districts  which  were  fortunate  enough  to  possess  large  beds, 

*  Philosophical  Transactions,  No.  53,  Nov.,  1669;  No.  66,  Dec.,  1670;  No.  103, 
May,  1674 ;  No.  156,  Feb.,  168f. 

f  Yarranton,  England's  Improvement  by  Sea  and  Land,  1677 ;  Porter's  Progress 
of  the  Nation.  See  also  a  remarkably  perspicuous  history,  in  small  compass,  of  the 
English  iron-works,  in  Mr.  M'Culloch's  Statistical  Account  of  the  British  Empire. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  295 

and  in  the  capital,  which  could  easily  be  supplied  by  water 
carriage.  It  seems  reasonable  to  believe  that  at  least  one-half 
of  the  quantity  then  extracted  from  the  pits  was  consumed  in 
London.  The  consumption  of  London  seemed  to  the  writers 
of  that  age  enormous,  and  was  often  mentioned  by  them  as 
a  proof  of  the  greatness  of  the  imperial  city.  They  scarcely 
hoped  to  be  believed  when  they  affirmed  that  two  hundred 
and  eighty  thousand  chaldrons,  that  is  to  say,  about  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  tons,  were,  in  the  last  year  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  brought  to  the  Thames.  At 
present  three  millions  and  a  half  of  tons  are  required  yearly 
by  the  metropolis ;  and  the  whole  annual  produce  cannot, 
on  the  most  moderate  computation,  be  estimated  at  less  than 
thirty  millions  of  tons.* 

While  these  great  changes  had  been  in  progress,  the  rent  of 
land  has,  as  might  be  expected,  been  almost  constantly  rising, 
increase  of  I*1  some  districts  it  has  multiplied  more  than  ten- 
fold. In  some  it  has  not  more  than  doubled.  It 
has  probably,  on  the  average,  quadrupled. 

Of  the  rent,  a  large  proportion  was  divided  among  the 
country  gentlemen,  a  class  of  persons  whose  position  and  char- 
acter it  is  most  important  that  we  should  clearly  understand ; 
for  by  their  influence  and  by  their  passions  the  fate  of  the 
nation  was,  at  several  important  conjunctures,  determined. 

We  should  be  much  mistaken  if  we  pictured  to  ourselves 
the  squires  of  the  seventeenth  century  as  men  bearing  a  close 
The  country  resemblance  to  their  descendants,  the  county  inem- 
gentiemen.  j^.g  an(j  ciiajrmen  of  quarter-sessions  with  whom 
we  are  familiar.  The  modern  country  gentleman .  generally 
receives  a  liberal  education,  passes  from  a  distinguished  school 
to  a  distinguished  college,  and  has  ample  opportunity  to  be- 
come an  excellent  scholar.  He  has  generally  seen  something 
of  foreign  countries.  A  considerable  part  of  his  life  has  gen- 

*  See  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684,  1687;  Angliae  Metropolis,  1691 ; 
M'Culloch's  Statistical  Account  of  the  British  Empire,  Part  III.,  Chap.  ii.  (edition 
of  1847).  In  1845  the  quantity  of  coal  brought  into  London  appeared,  by  the  par- 
liamentary returns,  to  be  3,460,000  tons  (1848).  In  1854  the  quantity  of  coal 
brought  into  London  amounted  to  4,378,000  tons  (1857). 


296  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

erally  been  passed  in  the  capital ;  and  the  refinements  of  the 
capital  follow  him  into  the  country.  There  is  perhaps  no 
class  of  dwellings  so  pleasing  as  the  rural  seats  of  the  English 
gentry.  In  the  parks  and  pleasure-grounds,  nature,  dressed 
yet  not  disguised  by  art,  wears  her  most  alluring  form.  In 
the  buildings,  good  sense  and  good  taste  combine  to  produce 
a  happy  union  of  the  comfortable  and  the  graceful.  The 
pictures,  the  musical  instruments,  the  library,  would  in  any 
other  country  be  considered  as  proving  the  owner  to  be  an 
eminently  polished  and  accomplished  man.  A  country  gen- 
tleman who  witnessed  the  Revolution  was  probably  in  receipt 
of  about  a  fourth  part  of  the  rent  which  his  acres  now  yield 
to  his  posterity.  He  was,  therefore,  as  compared  with  his 
posterity,  a  poor  man,  and  was  generally  under  the  necessity 
of  residing,  with  little  interruption,  on  his  estate.  To  travel 
on  the  Continent,  to  maintain  an  establishment  in  London,  or 
even  to  visit  London  frequently,  were  pleasures  in  which  only 
the  great  proprietors  could  indulge.  It  may  be  confidently 
affirmed  that  of  the  squires  whose  names  were  then  in  the 
commissions  of  peace  and  lieutenancy  not  one  in  twenty 
went  to  town  once  in  five  years,  or  had  ever  in  his  life  wan- 
dered so  far  as  Paris.  Many  lords  of  manors  had  received  an 
education  differing  little  from  that  of  their  menial  servants. 
The  heir  of  an  estate  often  passed  his  boyhood  and  youth  at 
the  seat  of  his  family  with  no  better  tutors  than  grooms  and 
game-keepers,  and  scarce  attained  learning  enough  to  sign  his 
name  to  a  Mittimus.  If  he  went  to  school  and  to  college, 
he  generally  returned  before  he  was  twenty  to  the  seclusion 
of  the  old.  hall,  and  there,  unless  his  mind  were  very  happily 
constituted  by  nature,  soon  forgot  his  academical  pursuits  in 
rural  business  and  pleasures.  His  chief  serious  employment 
was  the  care  of  his  property.  He  examined  samples  of  grain, 
handled  pigs,  and,  on  market-days,  made  bargains  over  a  tank- 
ard with  drovers  and  hop  merchants.  His  chief  pleasures 
were  commonly  derived  from  field-sports  and  from  an  unre- 
fined sensuality.  His  language  and  pronunciation  were  such 
as  we  should  now  expect  to  hear  only  from  the  most  ignorant 
clowns.  His  oaths,  coarse  jests,  and  scurrilous  terms  of  abuse, 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN   1685.  297 

were  uttered  with  the  broadest  accent  of  his  province.  It 
was  easy  to  discern,  from  the  first  words  which  he  spoke, 
whether  he  came  from  Somersetshire  or  Yorkshire.  He 
troubled  himself  little  about  decorating  his  abode,  and,  if  he 
attempted  decoration,  seldom  produced  anything  but  deform 
ity.  The  litter  of  a  farm-yard  gathered  under  the  windows 
of  his  bedchamber,  and  the  cabbages  and  gooseberry-bushes 
grew  close  to  his  hall  door.  His  table  was  loaded  with  coarse 
plenty;  and  guests  were  cordially  welcomed  to  it.  But,  as 
the  habit  of  drinking  to  excess  was  general  in  the  class  to 
which  he  belonged,  and  as  his  fortune  did  not  enable  him  to 
intoxicate  large  assemblies  daily  with  claret  or  canary,  strong 
beer  was  the  ordinary  beverage.  The  quantity  of  beer  con- 
sumed was  indeed  enormous.  For  beer  then  was,  to  the  mid- 
dle and  lower  classes,  not  only  all  that  beer  now  is,  but  all 
that  wine,  tea,  and  ardent  spirits  now  are.  It  was  only  at 
great  houses,  or  on  great  occasions,  that  foreign  drink  was 
placed  on  the  board.  The  ladies  of  the  house,  whose  business 
it  had  commonly  been  to  cook  the  repast,  retired  as  soon  as 
the  dishes  had  been  devoured,  and  left  the  gentlemen  to  their 
ale  and  tobacco.  The  coarse  jollity  of  the  afternoon  was  often 
prolonged  till  the  revellers  were  laid  under  the  table. 

It  was  very  seldom  that  the  country  gentleman  caught 
glimpses  of  the  great  world ;  and  what  he  saw  of  it  tended 
rather  to  confuse  than  to  enlighten  his  understanding.  His 
opinions  respecting  religion,  government,  foreign  countries, 
and  former  times  having  been  derived,  not  from  study,  from 
observation,  or  from  conversation  with  enlightened  compan- 
ions, but  from  such  traditions  as  were  current  in  his  own  small 
circle,  were  the  opinions  of  a  child.  He  adhered  to  them, 
however,  with  the  obstinacy  which  is  generally  found  in  ig- 
norant men  accustomed  to  be  fed  with  flattery.  His  animos- 
ities were  numerous  and  bitter.  He  hated  Frenchmen  and 
Italians,  Scotchmen  and  Irishmen,  Papists  and  Presbyterians, 
Independents  and  Baptists,  Quakers  and  Jews.  Toward  Lon- 
don and  Londoners  he  felt  an  aversion  which  more  than  once 
produced  important  political  effects.  His  wife  and  daughter 
were,  in  tastes  and  acquirements,  below  a  house-keeper  or  a 


298  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

still-room  maid  of  the  present  day.  They  stitched  and  spun, 
brewed  gooseberry  wine,  cured  marigolds,  and  made  the  crust 
for  the  venison  pasty. 

From  this  description  it  might  be  supposed  that  the  Eng- 
lish  esquire  of  the  seventeenth  century  did  not  materially 
differ  from  a  rustic  miller  or  ale-house  keeper  of  our  time. 
There  are,  however,  some  important  parts  of  his  character  still 
to  be  noted,  which  will  greatly  modify  this  estimate.  Unlet- 
tered as  he  was  and  unpolished,  he  was  still  in  some  most  im- 
portant points  a  gentleman.  He  was  a  member  of  a  proud 
and  powerful  aristocracy,  and  was  distinguished  by  many  both 
of  the  good  and  of  the  bad  qualities  which  belong  to  aristo- 
crats. His  family  pride  was  beyond  that  of  a  Talbot  or  a 
Howard.  He  knew  the  genealogies  and  coats  of  arms  of  all 
his  neighbors,  and  could  tell  which  of  them  had  assumed  sup- 
porters without  any  right,  and  which  of  them  were  so  unfortu- 
nate as  to  be  great-grandsons  of  aldermen.  He  was  a  magis- 
trate, and,  as  such,  administered  gratuitously  to  those  who 
dwelt  around  him  a  rude  patriarchal  justice,  which,  in  spite 
of  innumerable  blunders  and  of  occasional  acts  of  tyranny, 
was  yet  better  than  no  justice  at  all.  He  was  an  officer  of 
the  trainbands ;  and  his  military  dignity,  though  it  might 
move  the  mirth  of  gallants  who  had  served  a  campaign  in 
Flanders,  raised  his  character  in  his  own  eyes  and  in  the  eyes 
of  his  neighbors.  Nor  indeed  was  his  soldiership  justly  a 
subject  of  derision.  In  every  county  there  were  elderly  gen- 
tlemen who  had  seen  service  which  was  no  child's  play.  One 
had  been  knighted  by  Charles  the  First,  after  the  battle  of 
Edgehill.  Another  still  wore  a  patch  over  the  gear  which  he 
had  received  at  Naseby.  A  third  had  defended  his  old  house 
till  Fairfax  had  blown  in  the  door  with  a  petard.  The  pres- 
ence of  these  old  Cavaliers,  with  their  old  swords  and  holsters, 
and  with  their  old  stories  about  Goring  and  Lunsford,  gave 
to  the  musters  of  militia  an  earnest  and  warlike  aspect  which 
would  otherwise  have  been  wanting.  Even  those  country 
gentlemen  who  were  too  young  to  have  themselves  exchanged 
blows  with  the  cuirassiers  of  the  Parliament  had,  from  child- 
hood, been  surrounded  by  the  traces  of  recent  war,  and  fed 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  299 

with  stories  of  the  martial  exploits  of  their  fathers  and  uncles. 
Thus  the  character  of  the  English  esquire  of  the  seventeenth 
century  was  compounded  of  two  elements  which  we  seldom 
or  never  find  united.  His  ignorance  and  uncouthness,  his 
low  tastes  and  gross  phrases,  would,  in  our  time,  be  considered 
as  indicating  a  nature  and  a  breeding  thoroughly  plebeian. 
Yet  he  was  essentially  a  patrician,  and  had,  in  large  measure, 
both  the  virtues  and  the  vices  which  flourish  among  men  set 
from  their  birth  in  high  place,  and  used  to  respect  themselves 
and  to  be  respected  by  others.  It  is  not  easy  for  a  generation 
accustomed  to  find  chivalrous  sentiments  only  in  company 
with  liberal  studies  and  polished  manners  to  image  to  itself  a 
man  with  the  deportment,  the  vocabulary,  and  the  accent  of 
a  carter,  yet  punctilious  on  matters  of  genealogy  and  prece- 
dence, and  ready  to  risk  his  life  rather  than  see  a  stain  cast  on 
the  honor  of  his  house.  It  is,  however,  only  by  thus  joining 
together  things  seldom  or  never  found  together  in  our  own 
experience  that  we  can  form  a  just  idea  of  that  rustic  aris- 
tocracy which  constituted  the  main  strength  of  the  armies 
of  Charles  the  First,  and  which  long  supported,  with  strange 
fidelity,  the  interest  of  his  descendants. 

The  gross,  uneducated,  untra veiled  country  gentleman  was 
commonly  a  Tory :  but,  though  devotedly  attached  to  hered- 
itary monarchy,  he  had  no  partiality  for  courtiers  and  min- 
isters. He  thought,  not  without  reason,  that  Whitehall  was 
filled  with  the  most  corrupt  of  mankind,  and  that  of  the  great 
sums  which  the  House  of  Commons  had  voted  to  the  crown 
since  the  Restoration  part  had  been  embezzled  by  cunning 
politicians,  and  part  squandered  on  buffoons  and  foreign  cour- 
tesans. His  stout  English  heart  swelled  with  indignation  at 
the  thought  that  the  government  of  his  country  should  be 
subject  to  French  dictation.  Being  himself  generally  an  old 
Cavalier,  or  the  son  of  an  old  Cavalier,  he  reflected  with  bit- 
ter resentment  on  the  ingratitude  with  which  the  Stuarts  had 
requited  their  best  friends.  Those  who  heard  him  grumble 
at  the  neglect  with  which  he  was  treated,  and  at  the  profu- 
sion with  which  wealth  was  lavished  on  the  bastards  of  Nell 
Gwynn  and  Madam  Carwell,  would  have  supposed  him  ripe 


300  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

for  rebellion.  But  all  this  ill-humor  lasted  only  till  the  throne 
was  really  in  danger.  It  was  precisely  when  those  whom  the 
sovereign  had  loaded  with  wealth  and  honors  shrank  from  his 
side  that  the  country  gentlemen,  so  surly  and  mutinous  in  the 
season  of  his  prosperity,  rallied  round  him  in  a  body.  Thus, 
after  murmuring  twenty  years  at  the  misgovern ment  of 
Charles  the  Second,  they  came  to  his  rescue  in  his  extremity, 
when  his  own  secretaries  of  state  and  the  lords  of  his  own 
treasury  had  deserted  him,  and  enabled  him  to  gain  a  com- 
plete victory  over  the  opposition ;  nor  can  there  be  any  doubt 
that  they  would  have  shown  equal  loyalty  to  his  brother 
James,  if  James  would,  even  at  the  last  moment,  have  re- 
frained from  outraging  their  strongest  feeling.  For  there 
was  one  institution,  and  one  only,  which  they  prized  even 
more  than  hereditary  monarchy ;  and  that  institution  was  the 
Church  of  England.  Their  love  of  the  Church  was  not,  in- 
deed, the  effect  of  study  or  meditation.  Few  among  them 
could  have  given  any  reason,  drawn  from  Scripture  or  eccle- 
siastical history,  for  adhering  to  her  doctrines,  her  ritual,  and 
her  polity ;  nor  were  they,  as  a  class,  by  any  means  strict 
observers  of  that  code  of  morality  which  is  common  to  all 
Christian  sects.  But  the  experience  of  many  ages  proves 
that  men  may  be  ready  to  fight  to  the  death,  and  to  persecute 
without  pity,  for  a  religion  whose  creed  they  do  not  under- 
stand, and  whose  precepts  they  habitually  disobey.* 

The  rural  clergy  were  even  more  vehement  in  Toryism 
than  the  rural  gentry,  and  were  a  class  scarcely  less  impor- 
tant.    It  is  to  be  observed,  however,  that  the  indi- 
vidual clergyman,  as  compared  with  the  individual 
gentleman,  then  ranked  much  lower  than  in  our  days.     The 
main  support  of  the  Church  was  derived  from  the  tithe ;  and 
the  tithe  bore  to  the  rent  a  much  smaller  ratio  than  at  pres- 
ent.    King  estimated  the  whole  income  of  the  parochial  and 
collegiate  clergy  at  only  four  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 

*  My  notion  of  the  country  gentleman  of  the  seventeenth  century  has  been  de- 
rived from  sources  too  numerous  to  be  recapitulated.  I  must  leave  my  descrip- 
tion to  the  judgment  of  those  who  have  studied  the  history  and  the  lighter  litera- 
ture of  that  age. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN   1685.  301 

pounds  a  year ;  Davenant  at  only  five  hundred  and  forty-four 
thousand  a  year.  It  is  certainly  now  more  than  seven  times 
as  great  as  the  larger  of  these  two  sums.  The  average  rent 
of  the  land  has  not,  according  to  any  estimate,  increased 
proportionally.  It  follows  that  the  rectors  and  vicars  must 
have  been,  as  compared  with  the  neighboring  knights  and 
squires,  much  poorer  in  the  seventeenth  than  in  the  nine- 
teenth century. 

The  place  of  the  clergyman  in  society  had  been  completely 
changed  by  the  Reformation.  Before  that  event,  ecclesias- 
tics had  formed  the  majority  of  the  House  of  Lords,  had,  in 
wealth  and  splendor,  equalled,  and  sometimes  outshone,  the 
greatest  of  the  temporal  barons,  and  had  generally  held  the 
highest  civil  offices.  Many  of  the  treasurers,  and  almost  all 
the  chancellors  of  the  Plantagenets,  were  bishops.  The  Lord 
Keeper  of  the  Privy  Seal  and  the  Master  of  the  Rolls  were 
ordinarily  Churchmen.  Churchmen  transacted  the  most  im- 
portant diplomatic  business.  Indeed,  all  that  large  portion 
of  the  administration  which  rude  and  warlike  nobles  were 
incompetent  to  conduct  was  considered  as  especially  belong- 
ing to  divines.  Men,  therefore,  who  were  averse  to  the  life 
of  camps,  and  who  were,  at  the  same  time,  desirous  to  rise 
in  the  state,  commonly  received  the  tonsure.  Among  them 
were  sons  of  all  the  most  illustrious  families,  and  near  kins- 
men of  the  throne — Scroops  and  Nevilles,  Bourchiers,  Staf- 
fords,  and  Poles.  To  the  religious  houses  belonged  the  rents 
of  immense  domains,  and  all  that  large  portion  of  the  tithe 
which  is  now  in  the  hands  of  laymen.  Down  to  the  middle 
of  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  therefore,  no  line  of  life 
was  so  attractive  to  ambitions  and  covetous  natures  as  the 
priesthood.  Then  came  a  violent  revolution.  The  aboli- 
tion of  the  monasteries  deprived  the  Church  at  once  of  the 
greater  part  of  her  wealth,  and  of  her  predominance  in  the 
Upper  House  of  Parliament.  There  was  no  longer  an  Ab- 
bot of  Glastonbury .  or  an  Abbot  of  Reading  seated  among 
the  peers,  and  possessed  of  revenues  equal  to  those  of  a 
powerful  earl.  The  princely  splendor  of  William  of  Wyke- 
ham  and  of  William  of  Waynflete  had  disappeared.  The 


302  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

scarlet  hat  of  the  cardinal,  the  silver  cross  of  the  legate,  were 
no  more.  The  clergy  had  also  lost  the  ascendency  which 
is  the  natural  reward  of  superior  mental  cultivation.  Once 
the  circumstance  that  a  man  could  read  had  raised  a  presump- 
tion that  he  was  in  orders.  But,  in  an  age  which  produced 
such  laymen  as  William  Cecil  and  Nicholas  Bacon,  Roger 
Ascham  and  Thomas  Smith,  Walter  Mildmay  and  Francis 
Walsingham,  there  was  no  reason  for  calling  away  prelates 
from  their  dioceses  to  negotiate  treaties,  to  superintend  the 
finances,  or  to  administer  justice.  The  spiritual  character 
not  only  ceased  to  be  a  qualification  for  high  civil  office,  but 
began  to  be  regarded  as  a  disqualification.  Those  worldly 
motives,  therefore,  which  had  formerly  induced  so  many  able, 
aspiring,  and  high-born  youths  to  assume  the  ecclesiastical 
habit,  ceased  to  operate.  Not  one  parish  in  two  hundred 
then  afforded  what  a  man  of  family  considered  as  a  mainte- 
nance. There  were  still  indeed  prizes  in  the  Church:  but 
they  were  few ;  and  even  the  highest  were  mean,  when  com- 
pared with  the  glory  which  had  once  surrounded  the  princes 
of  the  hierarchy.  The  state  kept  by  Parker  and  Grindal 
seemed  beggarly  to  those  who  remembered  the  imperial  pomp 
of  Wolsey,  his  palaces,  which  had  become  the  favorite  abodes 
of  royalty,  Whitehall  and  Hampton  Court,  the  three  sumpt- 
uous tables  daily  spread  in  his  refectory,  the  forty-four  gor- 
geous copes  in  his  chapel,  his  running  footmen  in  rich  liveries, 
and  his  body-guards  with  gilded  pole-axes.  Thus  the  sacer- 
dotal office  lost  its  attraction  for  the  higher  classes.  During 
the  century  which  followed  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  scarce 
a  single  person  of  noble  descent  took  orders.  At  the  close 
of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  two  sons  of  peers  were 
bishops ;  four  or  five  sons  of  peers  were  priests,  and  held  val- 
uable preferment;  but  these  rare  exceptions  did  not  take 
away  the  reproach  which  lay  on  the  body.  The  clergy  were 
regarded  as,  on  the  whole,  a  plebeian  class.*  And,  indeed, 

*  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  great  increase  in  the  value  of  benefices  pro- 
duced a  change.  The  younger  sons  of  the  nobility  were  allured  back  to  the  cleri- 
cal profession.  Warburton,  in  a  letter  to  Kurd,  dated  the  5th  of  July,  1752,  men- 
tions this  change,  which  was  then  recent.  "  Our  grandees  have  at  last  found  their 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  303 

for  one  who  made  the  figure  of  a  gentleman,  ten  were  mere 
menial  servants.  A  large  proportion  of  those  divines  who 
had  no  benefices,  or  whose  benefices  were  too  small  to  afford 
a  comfortable  revenue,  lived  in  the  houses  of  laymen.  It 
had  long  been  evident  that  this  practice  tended  to  degrade 
the  priestly  character.  Laud  had  exerted  himself  to  effect  a 
change ;  and  Charles  the  First  had  repeatedly  issued  positive 
orders  that  none  but  men  of  high  rank  should  presume  to 
keep  domestic  chaplains.*  But  these  injunctions  had  become 
obsolete.  Indeed,  during  the  domination  of  the  Puritans, 
many  of  the  ejected  ministers  of  the  Church  of  England 
could  obtain  bread  and  shelter  only  by  attaching  themselves 
to  the  households  of  royalist  gentlemen ;  and  the  habits  which 
had  been  formed  in  those  times  of  trouble*  continued  long 
after  the  re-establishment  of  monarchy  and  episcopacy.  In 
the  mansions  of  men  of  liberal  sentiments  and  cultivated  un- 
derstandings, the  chaplain  was  doubtless  treated  with  urbanity 
and  kindness.  His  conversation,  his  literary  assistance,  his 
spiritual  advice,  were  considered  as  an  ample  return  for  his 
food,  his  lodging,  and  his  stipend.  But  this  was  not  the  gen- 
eral feeling  of  the  country  gentlemen.  The  coarse  and  igno- 
rant squire,  who  thought  that  it  belonged  to  his  dignity  to 
have  grace  said  every  day  at  his  table  by  an  ecclesiastic  in 
full  canonicals,  found  means  to  reconcile  dignity  with  econ- 
omy. A  young  Levite — such  was  the  phrase  then  in  use — 
might  be  had  for  his  board,  a  small  garret,  and  ten  pounds  a 
year,  and  might  not  only  perform  his  own  professional  func- 
tions, might  not  only  be  the  most  patient  of  butts  and  of  lis- 
teners, might  not  only  be  always  ready  in  fine  weather  for 
bowls,  and  in  rainy  weather  for  shovel-board,  but  might  also 
save  the  expense  of  a  gardener  or  of  a  groom.  Sometimes 
the  reverend  man  nailed  up  the  apricots;  and  sometimes  he 
curried  the  coach-horses.  He  cast  up  the  farrier's  bills.  He 

way  back  into  the  Church.  I  only  wonder  they  have  been  so  long  about  it.  But 
be  assured  that  nothing  but  a  new  religious  revolution,  to  sweep  away  the  frag- 
ments that  Henry  the  Eighth  left  after  banqueting  his  courtiers,  will  drive  them 
out  again." 

*  See  Heylin's  Cyprianus  Anglicus. 


304:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

walked  ten  miles  with  a  message  or  a  parcel.  He  was  permit- 
ted to  dine  with  the  family ;  but  he  was  expected  to  content 
himself  with  the  plainest  fare.  He  might  fill  himself  with 
the  corned  beef  and  the  carrots :  but,  as  soon  as  the  tarts  and 
cheese-cakes  made  their  appearance,  he  quitted  his  seat,  and 
stood  aloof  till  he  was  summoned  to  return  thanks  for  the 
repast,  from  a  great  part  of  which  he  had  been  excluded.* 

Perhaps,  after  some  years  of  service,  he  was  presented  to  a 
living  sufficient  to  support  him  :  but  he  often  found  it  neces- 
sary to  purchase  his  preferment  by  a  species  of  Simony,  \vhich 
furnished  an  inexhaustible  subject  of  pleasantry  to  three  or 
four  generations  of  scoffers.  With  his  cure  he  was  expected 
to  take  a  wife.  The  wife  had  ordinarily  been  in  the  patron's 
service ;  and  it  was  well  if  she  was  not  suspected  of  stand- 
ing too  high  in  the  patron's  favor.  Indeed,  the  nature  of 
the  matrimonial  connections  which  the  clergymen  of  that  age 
were  in  the  habit  of  forming  is  the  most  certain  indication  of 
the  place  which  the  order  held  in  the  social  system.  An  Ox- 
onian, writing  a  few  months  after  the  death  of  Charles  the 
Second,  complained  bitterly,  not  only  that  the  country  attor- 
ney and  the  country  apothecary  looked  down  with  disdain 
on  the  country  clergyman,  but  that  one  of  the  lessons  most 
earnestly  inculcated  on  every  girl  of  honorable  family  was  to 
give  no  encouragement  to  a  lover  in  orders,  and  that,  if  any 
young  lady  forgot  this  precept,  she  wras  almost  as  much  dis- 
graced as  by  an  illicit  amour,  f  Clarendon,  who  assuredly 
bore  no  ill  will  to  the  priesthood,  mentions  it  as  a  sign  of  the 
confusion  of  ranks  which  the  great  rebellion  had  produced, 
that  some  damsels  of  noble  families  had  bestowed  themselves 

*  Eachard,  Causes  of  the  Contempt  of  the  Clergy ;  Oldham,  Satire  addressed  to 
a  Friend  about  to  leave  the  University ;  Tatler,  255,  258.  That  the  English  clergy 
were  a  low-born  class,  is  remarked  in  the  Travels  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo,  Ap- 
pendix A. 

f  "  A  causidico,  medicastro,  ipsaque  artificum  farragine,  eeclesiae  rector  aut  vica- 
rius  contemnitur  et  fit  ludibrio.  Gentis  et  familise  nitor  sacris  ordinibus  pollutus 
censetur :  foeminisque  natalitio  insignibus  unicum  inculcatur  saepius  praeceptum, 
ne  modestiae  naufragium  faciant,  aut  (quod  idem  auribus  tarn  delicatulis  sonat), 
ne  clerico  se  nuptas  dari  patiantur." — Angliae  Notitia,  by  T.  Wood,  of  New  College, 
Oxford,  1GSG. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  305 

on  divines.*  A  waiting- woman  was  generally  considered  as 
the  most  suitable  helpmate  for  a  parson.  Queen  Elizabeth, 
as  head  of  the  Church,  had  given  what  seemed  to  be  a  formal 
sanction  to  this  prejudice,  by  issuing  special  orders  that  no 
clergyman  should  presume  to  espouse  a  servant-girl,  without 
the  consent  of  the  master  or  mistress,  f  During  several  gen- 
erations, accordingly,  the  relation  between  divines  and  hand- 
maidens was  a  theme  for  endless  jest ;  nor  would  it  be  easy 
to  find,  in  the  comedy  of  the  seventeenth  century,  a  single 
instance  of  a  clergyman  who  wins  a  spouse  above  the  rank  of 
a  cook.:}:  Even  so  late  as  the  time  of  George  the  Second,  the 
keenest  of  all  observers  of  life  and  manners,  himself  a  priest, 
remarked  that,  in  a  great  household,  the  chaplain  was  the  re- 
source of  a  lady's  maid  whose  character  had  been  blown  upon, 
and  who  was  therefore  forced  to  give  up  hopes  of  catching 
the  steward.§ 

In  general  the  divine  who  quitted  his  chaplainship  for  a 
benefice  and  a  wife  found  that  he  had  only  exchanged  one 
class  of  vexations  for  another.  Hardly  one  living  in  fifty  en- 
abled the  incumbent  to  bring  up  a  family  comfortably.  As 
children  multiplied  and  grew,  the  household  of  the  priest  be- 
came more  and  more  beggarly.  Holes  appeared  more  and 
more  plainly  in  the  thatch  of  his  parsonage  and  in  his  single 
cassock.  Often  it  was  only  by  toiling  on  his  glebe,  by  feed- 
ing swine,  and  by  loading  dung -carts,  that  he  could  obtain 
daily  bread ;  nor  did  his  utmost  exertions  always  prevent  the 
bailiffs  from  taking  his  concordance  and  his  inkstand  in  exe- 
cution. It  was  a  white  day  on  which  he  was  admitted  into 
the  kitchen  of  a  great  house,  and  regaled  by  the  servants  with 

*  Clarendon's  Life,  ii.,  21. 

f  See  the  Injunctions  of  1559,  in  Bishop  Sparrow's  Collection.  Jeremy  Collier, 
in  his  Essay  on  Pride,  speaks  of  this  injunction  with  a  bitterness  which  proves  that 
his  own  pride  had  not  been  effectually  tamed. 

\  Roger  and  Abigail  in  Fletcher's  Scornful  Lady,  Bull  and  the  Nurse  in  Van- 
brugh's  Relapse,  Smirk  and  Susan  in  Shadwell's  Lancashire  Witches,  arc  instances. 

§  Swift's  Directions  to  Servants.  In  Swift's  Remarks  on  the  Clerical  Residence 
Bill,  he  describes  the  family  of  an  English  vicar  thus :  "  His  wife  is  little  better 
than  a  Goody,  in  her  birth,  education,  or  dress His  daughters  shall  go  to  ser- 
vice, or  be  sent  apprentice  to  the  sempstress  of  the  next  town." 

I.— 20 


306  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

cold  meat  and  ale.  His  children  were  brought  up  like  the 
children  of  the  neighboring  peasantry.  His  boys  followed 
the  plough ;  and  his  girls  went  out  to  service.*  Study  he 
found  impossible;  for  the  advowson  of  his  living  would 
hardly  have  sold  for  a  sum  sufficient  to  purchase  a  good  theo- 
logical library ;  and  he  might  be  considered  as  unusually  lucky 
if  he  had  ten  or  twelve  dog-eared  volumes  among  the  pots 
and  pans  on  his  shelves.  Even  a  keen  and  strong  intellect 
might  be  expected  to  rust  in  so  unfavorable  a  situation. 

Assuredly  there  was  at  that  time  no  lack  in  the  English 
Church  of  ministers  distinguished  by  abilities  and  learning. 
But  it  is  to  be  observed  that  these  ministers  were  not  scat- 
tered among  the  rural  population.  They  were  brought  to- 
gether at  a  few  places  where  the  means  of  acquiring  knowl- 
edge were  abundant,  and  where  the  opportunities  of  vigorous 
intellectual  exercise  were  frequent.f  At  such  places  were 
to  be  found  divines  qualified  by  parts,  by  eloquence,  by  wide 
knowledge  of  literature,  of  science,  and  of  life,  to  defend  their 
Church  victoriously  against  heretics  and  sceptics,  to  command 
the  attention  of  frivolous  and  worldly  congregations,  to  guide 
the  deliberations  of  senates,  and  to  make  religion  respectable, 
even  in  the  most  dissolute  of  courts.  Some  labored  to  fathom 
the  abysses  of  metaphysical  theology ;  some  were  deeply  versed 
in  Biblical  criticism  ;  and  some  threw  light  on  the  darkest  parts 
of  ecclesiastical  history.  Some  proved  themselves  consum- 
mate masters  of  logic.  Some  cultivated  rhetoric  with  such 
assiduity  and  success  that  their  discourses  are  still  justly  val- 
ued as  models  of  style.  These  eminent  men  were  to  be  found, 
with  scarcely  a  single  exception,  at  the  Universities,  at  the 
great  cathedrals,  or  in  the  capital.  Barrow  had  lately  died 
at  Cambridge,  and  Pearson  had  gone  thence  to  the  episcopal 

*  Even  in  Tom  Jones,  published  two  generations  later,  Mrs.  Seagrim,  the  wife 
of  a  game-keeper,  and  Mrs.  Honour,  a  waiting-woman,  boast  of  their  descent  from 
clergymen.  "  It  is  to  be  hoped,"  says  Fielding,  "  such  instances  will  in  future 
ages,  when  some  provision  is  made  for  the  families  of  the  inferior  clergy,  appear 
stranger  than  they  can  be  thought  at  present." 

f  This  distinction  between  country  clergy  and  town  clergy  is  strongly  marked 
by  Eachard,  and  cannot  but  be  observed  by  every  person  who  has  studied  the 
ecclesiastical  history  of  that  age. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN   1685.  307 

bench.  CuJworth  and  Henry  More  were  still  living  there. 
South  and  Pococke,  Jane  and  Aldrich,  were  at  Oxford.  Pri- 
deaux  was  in  the  close  of  Norwich,  and  "YVhitby  in  the  close 
of  Salisbury.  But  it  was  chiefly  by  the  London  clergy,  who 
were  always  spoken  of  as  a  class  apart,  that  the  fame  of  their 
profession  for  learning  and  eloquence  was  upheld.  The  prin- 
cipal pulpits  of  the  metropolis  were  occupied  about  this  time 
by  a  crowd  of  distinguished  men,  from  among  whom  was  se- 
lected a  large  proportion  of  the  rulers  of  the  Church.  Sher- 
lock preached  at  the  Temple,  Tillotson  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  Wake 
and  Jeremy  Collier  at  Gray's  Inn,  Burnet  at  the  Rolls,  Stil- 
lingfleet  at  Saint  Paul's  Cathedral,  Patrick  at  Saint  Paul's  in 
Covent  Garden,  Fowler  at  Saint  Giles's,  Cripplegate,  Sharp  at 
Saint  Giles's  in  the  Fields,  Tenison  at  Saint  Martin's,  Sprat  at 
Saint  Margaret's,  Beveridge  at  Saint  Peter's  in  Cornhill.  Of 
these  twelve  men,  all  of  high  note  in  ecclesiastical  history,  ten 
became  bishops,  and  four  archbishops.  Meanwhile  almost  the 
only  important  theological  works  which  came  forth  from  a 
rural  parsonage  were  those  of  George  Bull,  afterward  Bishop 
of  Saint  David's ;  and  Bull  never  would  have  produced  those 
works,  had  he  not  inherited  an  estate,  by  the  sale  of  which 
he  was  enabled  to  collect  a  library,  such  as  probably  no  other 
country  clergyman  in  England  possessed.* 

Thus  the  Anglican  priesthood  was  divided  into  two  sec- 
tions, which,  in  acquirements,  in  manners,  and  in  social  posi- 
tion, differed  widely  from  each  other.  One  section,  trained 
for  cities  and  courts,  comprised  men  familiar  with  all  ancient 
and  modern  learning — men  able  to  encounter  Hobbes  or  Bos- 
suet  at  all  the  weapons  of  controversy ;  men  who  could,  in 
their  sermons,  set  forth  the  majesty  and  beauty  of  Christi- 
anity with  such  justness  of  thought  and  such  energy  of  lan- 
guage, that  the  indolent  Charles  roused  himself  to  listen,  and 
the  fastidious  Buckingham  forgot  to  sneer;  men  whose  ad- 
dress, politeness,  and  knowledge  of  the  world  qualified  them 
to  manage  the  consciences  of  the  wealthy  and  noble ;  men 

*  Nelson's  Life  of  Bull.  As  to  the  extreme  difficulty  which  the  country  clergy 
found  in  procuring  books,  see  the  Life  of  Thomas  Bray,  the  founder  of  the  Society 
for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel. 


308  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cu.  IIL 

with  whom  Halifax  loved  to  discuss  the  interests  of  empires, 
and  from  whom  Dryden  was  not  ashamed  to  own  that  he  had 
learned  to  write.*  The  other  section  was  destined  to  ruder 
and  humbler  service.  It  was  dispersed  over  the  country,  and 
consisted  chiefly  of  persons  not  at  all  wealthier,  and  not  much 
more  refined,  than  small  farmers  or  upper  servants.  Yet  it 
was  in  these  rustic  priests,  who  derived  but  a  scanty  subsist- 
ence from  their  tithe  sheaves  and  tithe  pigs,  and  who  had  not 
the  smallest  chance  of  ever  attaining  high  professional  hon- 
ors, that  the  professional  spirit  was  strongest.  Among  those 
divines  who  were  the  boast  of  the  Universities  and  the  delight 
of  the  capital,  and  who  had  attained,  or  might  reasonably  ex- 
pect to  attain,  opulence  and  lordly  rank,  a  party,  respectable 
in  numbers,  and  more  respectable  in  character,  leaned  toward 
constitutional  principles  of  government,  lived  on  friendly 
terms  with  Presbyterians,  Independents,  and  Baptists,  would 
gladly  have  seen  a  full  toleration  granted  to  all  Protestant 
sects,  and  would  even  have  consented  to  make  alterations  in 
the  Liturgy  for  the  purpose  of  conciliating  honest  and  can- 
did Non-conformists.  But  such  latitudinarianism  was  held  in 
horror  by  the  country  parson.  He  took,  indeed,  more  pride 
in  his  ragged  gown  than  his  superiors  in  their  lawn  and  their 
scarlet  hoods.  The  very  consciousness  that  there  was  little  in 
his  worldly  circumstances  to  distinguish  him  from  the  villagers 
to  whom  he  preached  led  him  to  hold  immoderately  high  the 
dignity  of  that  sacerdotal  office  which  was  his  single  title  to 
reverence.  Having  lived  in  seclusion,  and  having  had  little 
opportunity  of  correcting  his  opinions  by  reading  or  conver- 
sation, he  held  and  taught  the  doctrines  of  indefeasible  hered- 
itary right,  of  passive  obedience,  and  of  non-resistance,  in  all 
their  crude  absurdity.  Having  been  long  engaged  in  a  petty 
war  against  the  neighboring  dissenters,  he  too  often  hated 
them  for  the  wrong  which  he  had  done  them,  and  found  no 
fault  with  the  Five  Mile  Act  and  the  Conventicle  Act,  except 
that  those  odious  laws  had  not  a  sharper  edge.  Whatever  in- 

*  "  I  have  frequently  heard  him  (Dryden)  own  with  pleasure  that  if  he  had  any 
talent  for  English  prose,  it  was  owing  to  his  having  often  read  the  writings  of  the 
great  Archbishop  Tillotson." — Congreve's  Dedication  of  Dryden's  Plays. 


Cn.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  309 

fluence  his  office  gave  him  was  exerted  with  passionate  zeal 
on  the  Tory  side ;  and  that  influence  was  immense.  It  would 
be  a  great  error  to  imagine,  because  the  country  rector  was  in 
general  not  regarded  as  a  gentleman,  because  he  could  not 
dare  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  one  of  the  young  ladies  at  the 
manor-house,  because  he  was  not  asked  into  the  parlors  of  the 
great,  but  was  left  to  drink  and  smoke  with  grooms  and  but- 
lers, that  the  power  of  the  clerical  body  was  smaller  than  at 
present.  The  influence  of  a  class  is  by  no  means  proportioned 
to  the  consideration  which  the  members  of  that  class  enjoy 
in  their  individual  capacity.  A  cardinal  is  a  much  more  ex- 
alted personage  than  a  begging  friar ;  but  it  would  be  a  griev- 
ous mistake  to  suppose  that  the  College  of  Cardinals  has  ex- 
ercised a  greater  dominion  over  the  public  mind  of  Europe 
than  the  Order  of  Saint  Francis.  In  Ireland,  at  present,  a 
peer  holds  a  far  higher  station  in  society  than  a  Roman  Cath- 
olic priest :  yet  there  are  in  Munster  and  Connaught  few  coun- 
ties where  a  combination  of  priests  would  not  carry  an  elec- 
tion against  a  combination  of  peers.  In  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury the  pulpit  was  to  a  large  portion  of  the  population  what 
the  periodical  press  now  is.  Scarce  any  of  the  clowns  who 
came  to  the  parish  church  ever  saw  a  gazette  or  a  political 
pamphlet.  Ill  informed  as  their  spiritual  pastor  might  be,  he 
was  yet  better  informed  than  themselves  :  he  had  every  week 
an  opportunity  of  haranguing  them ;  and  his  harangues  were 
never  answered.  At  every  important  conjuncture,  invectives 
against  the  "Whigs  and  exhortations  to  obey  the  Lord's  anointed 
resounded  at  once  from  many  thousands  of  pulpits ;  and  the 
effect  was  formidable  indeed.  Of  all  the  causes  which,  after 
the  dissolution  of  the  Oxford  Parliament,  produced  the  vio- 
lent reaction  against  the  Exclusionists,  the  most  potent  seems 
to  have  been  the  oratory  of  the  country  clergy. 

The  power  which  the  country  gentlemen  and  the  country 
clergymen  exercised  in  the  rural  districts  was  in  some  meas- 
ure counterbalanced  by  the  power  of  the  yeoman- 

The  yeomanry.  .  *  r    -  J 

ry,  an  eminently  manly  and  true-hearted  race. 
The  petty  proprietors  who  cultivated  their  own  fields  with 
their  own  hands,  and  enjoyed  a  modest  competence,  without 


310  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  Ill 

affecting  to  Lave  scutcheons  and  crests,  or  aspiring  to  sit  on 
the  bench  of  justice,  then  formed  a  much  more  important 
part  of  the  nation  than  at  present.  If  we  may  trust  the  best 
statistical  writers  of  that  age,  not  less  than  a  hundred  and 
sixty  thousand  proprietors,  who  with  their  families  must  have 
made  up  more  than  a  seventh  of  the  whole  population,  de- 
rived their  subsistence  from  little  freehold  estates.  The  av- 
erage income  of  these  small  landholders,  an  income  made  up 
of  rent,  profit,  and  wages,  was  estimated  at  between  sixty  and 
seventy  pounds  a  year.  It  was  computed  that  the  number  of 
persons  who  tilled  their  own  land  was  greater  than  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  farmed  the  land  of  others.*  A  large  por- 
tion of  the  yeomanry  had,  from  the  time  of  the  Reformation, 
leaned  toward  Puritanism ;  had,  in  the  civil  war,  taken  the 
side  of  the  Parliament ;  had,  after  the  Restoration,  persisted 
in  hearing  Presbyterian  and  Independent  preachers ;  had,  at 
elections,  strenuously  supported  the  Exclusionists ;  and  had 
continued,  even  after  the  discovery  of  the  Rye -house  Plot 
and  the  proscription  of  the  Whig  leaders,  to  regard  Popery 
and  arbitrary  power  with  unmitigated  hostility. 

Great  as  has  been  the  change  in  the  rural  life  of  England 
since  the  Revolution,  the  change  which  has  come  to  pass  in 
Growth  of  the  *^e  cities  is  still  more  amazing.  At  present  above 
a  sixth  part  of  the  nation  is  crowded  into  provin- 
cial towns  of  more  than  thirty  thousand  inhabitants.  In 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  no  provincial  town  in  the 
kingdom  contained  thirty  thousand  inhabitants ;  and  only 
four  provincial  towns  contained  so  many  as  ten  thousand 
inhabitants. 

Next  to  the  capital,  but  next  at  an  immense  distance,  stood 

Bristol,  then  the  first  English  seaport,  and  Norwich,  then  the 

first  English  manufacturing  town.    Both  have  since 

Bristol.  .       , 

that  time  been  far  outstripped  by  younger  rivals ; 
yet  both  have  made  great  positive  advances.  The  popula- 
tion of  Bristol  has  quadrupled.  The  population  of  Norwich 
has  more  than  doubled. 

*  I  have  taken  Davcnant's  estimate,  which  is  a  little  lower  than  King's. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  311 

Pepys,  who  visited  Bristol  eight  years  after  the  Restoration, 
was  struck  by  the  splendor  of  the  city.  But  his  standard  was 
not  high ;  for  he  noted  down  as  a  wonder  the  circumstance 
that,  in  Bristol,  a  man  might  look  round  him  and  see  nothing 
but  houses.  It  seems  that,  in  no  other  place  with  which  he 
was  acquainted,  except  London,  did  the  buildings  completely 
shut  out  the  woods  and  fields.  Large  as  Bristol  might  then 
appear,  it  occupied  but  a  very  small  portion  of  the  area  on 
which  it  now  stands.  A  few  churches  of  eminent  beauty 
rose  out  of  a  labyrinth  of  narrow  lanes  built  upon  vaults  of 
no  great  solidity.  If  a  coach  or  a  cart  entered  those  alleys, 
there  was  danger  that  it  would  be  wedged  between  the  houses, 
and  danger  also  that  it  would  break  in  the  cellars.  Goods 
were,  therefore,  conveyed  about  the  town  almost  exclusively 
in  trucks  drawn  by  dogs ;  and  the  richest  inhabitants  exhib- 
ited their  wealthj  not  by  riding  in  gilded  carriages,  but  by 
walking  the  streets  with  trains  of  servants  in  rich  liveries, 
and  by  keeping  tables  loaded  with  good  cheer.  The  pomp 
of  the  christenings  and  burials  far  exceeded  what  was  seen  at 
any  other  place  in  England.  The  hospitality  of  the  city  was 
widely  renowned,  and  especially  the  collations  with  which  the 
sugar-refiners  regaled  their  visitors.  The  repast  was  dressed 
in  the  furnace,  and  was  accompanied  by  a  rich  beverage  made 
of  the  best  Spanish  wine,  and  celebrated  over  the  whole  king- 
dom as  Bristol  milk.  This  luxury  was  supported  by  a  thriv- 
ing trade  with  the  North  American  plantations  and  with  the  ' 
West  Indies.  The  passion  for  colonial  traffic  was  so  strong 
that  there  was  scarcely  a  small  shopkeeper  in  Bristol  who  had 
not  a  venture  on  board  of  some  ship  bound  for  Virginia  or 
the  Antilles.  Some  of  these  ventures  indeed  were  not  of  the 
most  honorable  kind.  There  was,  in  the  Transatlantic  pos- 
sessions of  the  crown,  a  great  demand  for  labor ;  and  this  de- 
mand was  partly  supplied  by  a  system  of  crimping  and  kid- 
napping at  the  principal  English  seaports.  Nowhere  was  this 
system  in  such  active  and  extensive  operation  as  at  Bristol. 
Even  the  first  magistrates  of  that  city  were  not  ashamed  to 
enrich  themselves  by  so  odious  a  commerce.  The  number 
of  houses  appears,  from  the  returns  of  the  hearth-money,  to 


312  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

have  been,  in  the  year  1685,  just  five  thousand  three  hundred. 
We  can  hardly  suppose  the  number  of  persons  in  a  house  to 
have  been  greater  than  in  the  city  of  London ;  and  in  the 
city  of  London  we  learn  from  the  best  authority  that  there 
were  then  fifty -five  persons  to  ten  houses.  The  population 
of  Bristol  must,  therefore,  have  been  about  twenty-nine  thou- 
sand souls.* 

Norwich  was  the  capital  of  a  large  and  fruitful  province. 
It  was  the  residence  of  a  bishop  and  of  a  chapter.  It  was  the 

chief  seat  of  the  chief  manufacture  of  the  realm. 

Some  men  distinguished  by  learning  and  science 
had  recently  dwelt  there ;  and  no  place  in  the  kingdom,  ex- 
cept the  capital  and  the  Universities,  had  more  attractions 
for  the  curious.  The  library,  the  museum,  the  aviary,  and 
the  botanical  garden  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  were  thought  by 
Fellows  of  the  Royal  Society  well  worthy  of  a  long  pilgrim- 
age. Norwich  had  also  a  court  in  miniature.  In  the  heart 
of  the  city  stood  an  old  palace  of  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk,  said 
to  be  the  largest  town-house  in  the  kingdom  out  of  London. 
In  this  mansion,  to  which  were  annexed  a  tennis-court,  a 
bowling-green,  and  a  wilderness  stretching  along  the  banks  of 
the  Wansum,  the  noble  family  of  Howard  frequently  resided, 
and  kept  a  state  resembling  that  of  petty  sovereigns.  Drink 
was  served  to  guests  in  goblets  of  pure  gold.  The  very 
tongs  and  shovels  were  of  silver.  Pictures  by  Italian  masters 
adorned  the  walls.  The  cabinets  were  filled  with  a  fine  col- 
lection of  gems  purchased  by  that  Earl  of  Arundel  whose 
marbles  are  now  among  the  ornaments  of  Oxford.  Here,  in 
the  year  1671,  Charles  and  his  court  wrere  sumptuously  enter- 
tained. Here,  too,  all  comers  were  annually  welcomed,  from 

*  Evelyn's  Diary,  June  2Y,  1654;  Pepys's  Diary,  June  13,  1668;  Roger  North's 
Lives  of  Lord  Keeper  Guildford,  and  of  Sir  Dudley  North ;  Petty's  Political  Arith- 
metic. I  have  taken  Petty's  facts,  but,  in  drawing  inferences  from  them,  I  have 
been  guided  by  King  and  Davenant,  who,  though  not  abler  men  than  he,  had  the 
advantage  of  coming  after  him.  As  to  the  kidnapping  for  which  Bristol  was  in- 
famous, see  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  121,  216,  and  the  harangue  of  Jeffreys  on 
the  subject,  in  the  Impartial  History  of  his  Life  and  Death,  printed  with  the  Bloody 
Assizes.  His  style  was,  as  usual,  coarse ;  but  I  cannot  reckon  the  reprimand  which 
he  gave  to  the  magistrates  of  Bristol  among  his  crimes. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  313 

Christmas  to  T welfth  -  night.  Ale  flowed  in  oceans  for  the 
populace.  Three  coaches,  one  of  which  had  been  built  at  a 
cost  of  five  hundred  pounds  to  contain  fourteen  persons,  were 
sent  every  afternoon  round  the  city  to  bring  ladies  to  the  fes- 
tivities ;  and  the  dances  were  always  followed  by  a  luxurious 
banquet.  When  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  came  to  Norwich,  he 
was  greeted  like  a  king  returning  to  his  capital.  The  bells 
of  the  cathedral  and  of  Saint  Peter  Mancroft  were  rung :  the 
guns  of  the  castle  were  fired ;  and  the  mayor  and  aldermen 
waited  on  their  illustrious  fellow-citizen  with  complimentary 
addresses.  In  the  year  1693  the  population  of  Norwich  was 
found,  by  actual  enumeration,  to  be  between  twenty-eight  and 
twenty-nine  thousand  souls.* 

Far  below  Norwich,  but  still  high  in  dignity  and  impor- 
tance, were  some  other  ancient  capitals  of  shires.  In  that  age 
it  was  seldom  that  a  country  gentleman  went  up  with  his  fam- 
ily to  London.  The  county  town  was  his  metropolis.  He 
sometimes  made  it  his  residence  during  part  of  the  year.  At 
all  events,  he  was  often  attracted  thither  by  business  and  pleas- 
ure, by  assizes,  quarter-sessions,  elections,  musters  of  militia, 
festivals,  and  races.  There  were  the  halls  where  the  judges, 
robed  in  scarlet  and  escorted  by  javelins  and  trumpets,  opened 
the  King's  commission  twice  a  year.  There  were  the  mar- 
kets at  which  the  corn,  the  cattle,  the  wool,  and  the  hops  of 
the  surrounding  country  were  exposed  to  sale.  There  were 
the  great  fairs  to  which  merchants  came  down  from  London, 
and  where  the  rural  dealer  laid  in  his  annual  stores  of  sugar, 
stationery,  cutlery,  and  muslin.  There  were  the  shops  at 
which  the  best  families  of  the  neighborhood  bought  grocery 
and  millinery.  Some  of  these  places  derived  dignity  from 
interesting  historical  recollections,  from  cathedrals  decorated 
by.  all  the  art  and  magnificence  of  the  Middle  Ages,  from  pal- 
aces where  a  long  succession  of  prelates  had  dwelt,  from  closes 
surrounded  by  the  venerable  abodes  of  deans  and  canons,  and 
from  castles  which  had  in  the  old  time  repelled  the  Nevilles 

*  Fuller's  Worthies;  Evelyn's  Diary,  Oct.  17, 1671 ;  Journal  of  T.  Browne,  son 
of  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Jan.  166J ;  Blomefield's  History  of  Norfolk;  History  of 
the  City  and  County  of  Norwich,  2  vols.,  1768. 


314  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

or  De  Yeres,  and  which  bore  more  recent  traces  of  the  ven- 
geance of  Rupert  or  of  Cromwell. 

Conspicuous  among  these  interesting  cities  were  York,  the 
capital  of  the  north,  and  Exeter,  the  capital  of  the  west, 
other  country  Neither  can  have  contained  much  more  than  ten 
thousand  inhabitants.  Worcester,  the  queen  of  the 
cider  land,  had  but  eight  thousand ;  Nottingham  probably  as 
many.  Gloucester,  renowned  for  that  resolute  defence  which 
had  been  fatal  to  Charles  the  First,  had  certainly  between  four 
and  five  thousand ;  Derby  not  quite  four  thousand.  Shrews- 
bury was  the  chief  place  of  an  extensive  and  fertile  district. 
The  Court  of  the  Marches  of  "Wales  was  held  there.  In  the 
language  of  the  gentry  many  miles  round  the  Wrekin,  to  go 
to  Shrewsbury  was  to  go  to  town.  The  provincial  wits  and 
beauties  imitated,  as  well  as  they  could,  the  fashions  of  Saint 
James's  Park,  in  the  walks  along  the  side  of  the  Severn.  The 
inhabitants  were  about  seven  thousand.'* 

The  population  of  every  one  of  these  places  has,  since  the 
Revolution,  much  more  than  doubled.  The  population  of 
some  has  multiplied  sevenfold.  The  streets  have  been  almost 
entirely  rebuilt.  Slate  has  succeeded  to  thatch,  and  brick  to 
timber.  The  pavements  and  the  lamps,  the  display  of  wealth 
in  the  principal  shops,  and  the  luxurious  neatness  of  the 
dwellings  occupied  by  the  gentry  would,  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  have  seemed  miraculous.  Yet  is  the  relative  impor- 
tance of  the  old  capitals  of  counties  by  no  means  what  it  was. 

*  The  population  of  York  appears,  from  the  return  of  baptisms  and  burials,  in 
Drake's  History,  to  have  been  about  13,000  in  1730.  Exeter  had  only  17,000  in- 
habitants in  1801.  The  population  of  Worcester  was  numbered  just  before  the 
siege  in  1646.  See  Nash's  History  of  Worcestershire.  I  have  made  allowance 
for  the  increase  which  must  be  supposed  to  have  taken  place  in  forty  years.  In 
1740,  the  population  of  Nottingham  was  found  by  enumeration  to  be  just  10,000. 
See  Dering's  History.  The  population  of  Gloucester  may  readily  be  inferred  from 
the  number  of  houses  which  King  found  in  the  returns  of  hearth-money,  and  from 
the  number  of  births  and  burials  which  is  given  in  Atkyns's  History.  The  popula- 
tion of  Derby  was  4000  in  1712.  See  Wolley's  MS.  History,  quoted  in  Lyson's 
Magna  Britannia.  The  population  of  Shrewsbury  was  ascertained,  in  1695,  by  act- 
ual enumeration.  As  to  the  gayeties  of  Shrewsbury,  see  Farquhar's  Recruiting  Of- 
ficer. Farquhar's  description  is  borne  out  by  a  ballad  in  the  Pepysian  Library,  of 
which  the  burden  is  "  Shrewsbury  for  me." 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND   IN  1685.  315 

Younger  towns,  towns  which  are  rarely  or  never  mentioned 
in  our  early  history,  and  which  sent  no  representatives  to  our 
early  parliaments,  have,  within  the  memory  of  persons  still 
living,  grown  to  a  greatness  which  this  generation  contem- 
plates with  wonder  and  pride,  not  unaccompanied  by  awe  and 
anxiety. 

The  most  eminent  of  these  towrns  were  indeed  known  in 
the  seventeenth  century  as  respectable  seats  of  industry. 
Nay,  their  rapid  progress  and  their  vast  opulence  were  then 
sometimes  described  in  language  which  seems  ludicrous  to  a 
man  who  has  seen  their  present  grandeur.  One  of  the  most 

populous  and  prosperous  among  them  was  Man- 
Manchester.        ,  -»r 

Chester.     Manchester  had  been   required  by  the 

Protector  to  send  one  representative  to  his  parliament,  and  was 
mentioned  by  writers  of  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second  as  a 
busy  and  opulent  place.  Cotton  had,  during  half  a  century, 
been  brought  thither  from  Cyprus  and  Smyrna ;  but  the  man- 
ufacture wras  in  its  infancy.  Whitney  had  not  yet  taught 
how  the  raw  material  might  be  furnished  in  quantities  almost 
fabulous.  Arkwright  had  yet  not  taught  how  it  might  be 
worked  up  with  a  speed  and  precision  which  seem  magical. 
The  whole  annual  import  did  not,  at  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  amount  to  two  millions  of  pounds,  a  quantity 
which  wrould  now  hardly  supply  the  demand  of  forty-eight 
hours.  That  wonderful  emporium,  which  in  population  and 
wealth  far  surpasses  capitals  so  much  renowned  as  Berlin, 
Madrid,  and  Lisbon,  was  then  a  mean  and  ill -built  market- 
town,  containing  under  six  thousand  people.  It  then  had 
not  a  single  press.  It  now  supports  a  hundred  printing  estab- 
lishments. It  then  had  not  a  single  coach.  It  now  supports 
twenty  coach-makers.* 

Leeds  was  already  the  chief  seat  of  the  woollen  manu- 
factures of  Yorkshire :  but  the  elderly  inhabitants  could  still 

*  Blome's  Britannia,  1673;  Aikin's  Country  round  Manchester;  Manchester 
Directory,  1845;  Baines,  History  of  the  Cotton  Manufacture.  The  best  informa- 
tion which  I  have  been  able  to  find,  touching  the  population  of  Manchester  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  is  contained  in  a  paper  drawn  up  by  the  Reverend  R.  Parkin- 
son, and  published  in  the  Journal  of  the  Statistical  Society  for  October,  1842. 


316  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  On.  Ill 

remember  the  time  when  the  first  brick  house,  then  and  long 

after  called  the  Red  House,  was  built.  They  boast- 
Leeds.  " 

ed  loudly  of  their  increasing  wealth,  and  of  the 

immense  sales  of  cloth  which  took  place  in  the  open  air  on 
the  bridge.  Hundreds,  nay,  thousands  of  pounds,  had  been 
paid  down  in  the  course  of  one  busy  market-day.  The  rising 
importance  of  Leeds  had  attracted  the  notice  of  successive 
governments.  Charles  the  First  had  granted  municipal  privi- 
leges to  the  town.  Oliver  had  invited  it  to  send  one  mem- 
ber to  the  House  of  Commons.  But  from  the  returns  of  the 
hearth-money  it  seems  certain  that  the  whole  population  of 
the  borough,  an  extensive  district  which  contains  many  ham- 
lets, did  not,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  exceed  seven 
thousand  souls.  In  1841  there  were  more  than  a  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand.* 

About  a  day's  journey  south  of  Leeds,  on  the  verge  of  a 

wild  moorland  tract,  lay  an  ancient  manor,  now  rich  with 

cultivation,  then    barren    and    unenclosed,  which 

Sheffield.  .     - 

was  known  by  the  name  ot  Hallamshire.  Iron 
abounded  there;  and,  from  a  very  early  period,  the  rude 
whittles  fabricated  there  had  been  sold  all  over  the  kingdom. 
They  had  indeed  been  mentioned  by  Geoffrey  Chaucer  in  one 
of  his  Canterbury  Tales.  But  the  manufacture  appears  to 
have  made  little  progress  during  the  three  centuries  which 
followed  his  time.  This  languor  may  perhaps  be  explained 
by  the  fact  that  the  trade  was,  during  almost  the  whole  of 
this  long  period,  subject  to  such  regulations  as  the  lord  and 
his  court  leet  thought  fit  to  impose.  The  more  delicate  kinds 
of  cutlery  were  either  made  in  the  capital  or  brought  from 
the  Continent.  Indeed  it  was  not  till  the  reign  of  George 
the  First  that  the  English  surgeons  ceased  to  import  from 
France  those  exquisitely  fine  blades  which  are  required  for 
operations  on  the  human  frame.  Most  of  the  Hallamshire 
forges  were  collected  in  a  market-town  which  had  sprung  up 
near  the  castle  of  the  proprietor,  and  which,  in  the  reign  of 

*  Thoresby's  Ducatus  Leodensis  ;  Whitaker's  Loidis  and  Elmete ;  WardelFs 
Municipal  History  of  the  Borough  of  Leeds  (1848).  In  1851  Leeds  had  172,000 
inhabitants  (1857). 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  317 

James  the  First,  had  been  a  singularly  miserable  place,  con- 
taining about  two  thousand  inhabitants,  of  whom  a  third  were 
half-starved  and  half-naked  beggars.  It  seems  certain  from 
the  parochial  registers  that  the  population  did  not  amount  to 
four  thousand  at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second. 
The  effects  of  a  species  of  toil  singularly  unfavorable  to  the 
health  and  vigor  of  the  human  frame  were  at  once  discerned 
by  every  traveller.  A  large  proportion  of  the  people  had 
distorted  limbs.  This  is  that  Sheffield  which  now,  with  its 
dependencies,  contains  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  souls, 
and  which  sends  forth  its  admirable  knives,  razors,  and  lancets 
to  the  farthest  ends  of  the  world.* 

Birmingham  had  not  been  thought  of  sufficient  importance 
to  return  a  member  to  Oliver's  parliament.     Yet  the  manu- 
facturers of  Birmingham  were  already  a  busy  and 

Birmingham.  .  °  J  ^ 

thriving  race.  They  boasted  that  their  hardware 
was  highly  esteemed,  not  indeed  as  now,  at  Pekin  and  Lima, 
at  Bokhara  and  Timbuctoo,  but  in  London,  and  even  as  far  off 
as  Ireland.  They  had  acquired  a  less  honorable  renown  as 
coiners  of  bad  money.  In  allusion  to  their  spurious  groats, 
some  Tory  wit  had  fixed  on  demagogues,  who  hypocritically 
affected  zeal  against  Popery,  the  nickname  of  Birminghams. 
Yet  in  1685  the  population,  which  is  now  little  less  than  two 
hundred  thousand,  did  not  amount  to  four  thousand.  Bir- 
mingham buttons  were  just  beginning  to  be  known  :  of  Bir- 
mingham guns  nobody  had  yet  heard ;  and  the  place  whence, 
two  generations  later,  the  magnificent  editions  of  Baskerville 
went  forth  to  astonish  all  the  librarians  of  Europe,  did  not 
contain  a  single  regular  shop  where  a  Bible  or  an  almanac 
could  be  bought.  On  market-days  a  bookseller  named  Mi- 
chael Johnson,  the  father  of  the  great  Samuel  Johnson,  came 
over  from  Lichfield,  and  opened  a  stall  during  a  few  hours. 
This  supply  of  literature  was  long  found  equal  to  the  de- 
mand.f 

*  Hunter's  History  of  Hallamshire  (1848).  In  1851  the  population  of  Sheffield 
had  increased  to  135,000  (1857). 

f  Blome's  Britannia,  1673;  Dugdale's  Warwickshire;  North's  Examen,  321 ; 
Preface  to  Absalom  and  AchkopLel;  Button's  History  of  Birmingham;  Boswell's 


318  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

These  four  chief  seats  of  our  great  manufactures  deserve 
especial  mention.  It  would  be  tedious  to  enumerate  all  the 
populous  and  opulent  hives  of  industry  which,  a  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ago,  were  hamlets  without  parish  churches,  or  des- 
olate moors,  inhabited  only  by  grouse  and  wild  deer.  Nor 
has  the  change  been  less  signal  in  those  outlets  by  which  the 
products  of  the  English  looms  and  forges  are  poured  forth 
over  the  whole  world.  At  present  Liverpool  con- 
tains more  than  three  hundred  thousand  inhabi- 
tants. The  shipping  registered  at  her  port  amounts  to  be- 
tween four  and  five  hundred  thousand  tons.  Into  her  cus- 
tom-house has  been  repeatedly  paid  in  one  year  a  sum  more 
than  thrice  as  great  as  the  whole  income  of  the  English  crown 
in  1685.  The  receipts  of  her  post-office,  even  since  the  great 
reduction  of  the  duty,  exceed  the  sum  which  the  postage  of 
the  whole  kingdom  yielded  to  the  Duke  of  York.  Her  end- 
less docks,  quays,  and  warehouses  are  among  the  wonders  of 
the  world.  Yet  even  those  docks  and  quays  and  warehouses 
seem  hardly  to  suffice  for  the  gigantic  trade  of  the  Mersey; 
and  already  a  rival  city  is  growing  fast  on  the  opposite  shore. 
In  the  days  of  Charles  the  Second  Liverpool  was  described  as 
A  rising  town  which  had  recently  made  great  advances,  and 
which  maintained  a  profitable  intercourse  with  Ireland  and 
with  the  sugar  colonies.  The  customs  had  multiplied  eight- 
fold within  sixteen  years,  and  amounted  to  what  was  then 
considered  as  the  immense  sum  of  fifteen  thousand  pounds 
annually.  But  the  population  can  hardly  have  exceeded  four 
thousand :  the  shipping  was  about  fourteen  hundred  tons,  less 
than  the  tonnage  of  a  single  modern  Indiaman  of  the  first 
class ;  and  the  whole  number  of  seamen  belonging  to  the  port 
cannot  be  estimated  at  more  than  two  hundred.* 


Life  of  Johnson.  In  1690  the  burials  at  Birmingham  were  150,  the  baptisms  125. 
I  think  it  probable  that  the  annual  mortality  was  little  less  than  one  in  twenty- 
five.  In  London  it  was  considerably  greater.  A  historian  of  Nottingham,  half  a 
century  later,  boasted  of  the  extraordinary  salubrity  of  his  town,  where  the  annual 
mortality  was  one  in  thirty.  See  Bering's  History  of  Nottingham  (1848).  In 
1851  the  population  of  Birmingham  had  increased  to  232,000  (1857). 
*  Blome's  Britannia ;  Gregson's  Antiquities  of  the  County  Palatine  and  Duchy 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  319 

Such  has  been  the  progress  of  those  towns  where  wealth  is 
created  and  accumulated.  Not  less  rapid  has  been  the  prog- 
watering-  ress  °f  towns  of  a  very  different  kind,  towns  in 
places.  which  wealth,  created  and  accumulated  elsewhere, 

is  expended  for  purposes  of  health  and  recreation.     Some  of 
the  most  remarkable  of  these  gay  places  have  sprung  into  ex- 
istence since  the  time  of  the  Stuarts.     Cheltenham 

Cheltenham.        .  .  i»ii-i«i 

is  now  a  greater  city  than  any  which  the  kingdom 
contained  in  the  seventeenth  century,  London  alone  excepted. 
But  in  the  seventeenth  century,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth,  Cheltenham  was  mentioned  by  local  historians 
merely  as  a  rural  parish  lying  under  the  Cotswold  Hills,  and 
affording  good  ground,  both  for  tillage  and  pasture.  Corn 
grew  and  cattle  browsed  over  the  space  now  covered  by  that 
long  succession  of  streets  and  villas.*  Brighton  was 
described  as  a  place  which  had  once  been  thriving, 
which  had  possessed  many  small  fishing  barks,  and  which  had, 
when  at  the  height  of  prosperity,  contained  above  two  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  but  which  was  sinking  fast  into  decay.  The 
sea  was  gradually  gaining  on  the  buildings,  which  at  length 
almost  entirely  disappeared.  Ninety  years  ago  the  ruins  of 
an  old  fort  were  to  be  seen  lying  among  the  pebbles  and  sea- 
weed on  the  beach ;  and  ancient  men  could  still  point  out  the 
traces  of  foundations  on  a  spot  where  a  street  of  more  than  a 
hundred  huts  had  been  swallowed  up  by  the  waves.  So  des- 
olate was  the  place  after  this  calamity,  that  the  vicarage  was 
thought  scarcely  worth  having.  A  few  poor  fishermen,  how- 
ever, still  continued  to  dry  their  nets  on  those  cliffs,  on  which 
now  a  town,  more  than  twice  as  large  and  populous  as  the 
Bristol  of  the  Stuarts,  presents,  mile  after  mile,  its  gay  and 
fantastic  front  to  the  sea.f 

England,  however,  was  not,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  des- 

of  Lancaster,  Part  II. ;  Petition  from  Liverpool  in  the  Privy  Council  Book,  May 
10, 1686.  In  1690  the  burials  at  Liverpool  were  151,  the  baptisms  120.  In  1844 
the  net  receipts  of  the  customs  at  Liverpool  was  4,365,526?.  Is.  8d.  (1848).  In 
1351  Liverpool  contained  375,000  inhabitants  (1857). 

*  Atkyns's  Gloucestershire. 

f  Magna  Britannia;  Grose's  Antiquities;  New  Brighthelmstone  Directory,  1770. 


320  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

titute  of  watering-places.  The  gentry  of  Derbyshire  and  of 
the  neighboring  counties  repaired  to  Buxton,  where 
they  were  lodged  in  low  rooms  under  bare  rafters, 
and  regaled  with  oatcake,  and  with  a  viand  which  the  hosts 
called  mutton,  but  which  the  guests  suspected  to  be  dog.  A 
Tunbndge  single  good  house  stood  near  the  spring.*  Tun- 
bridge  Wells,  lying  within  a  day's  journey  of  the 
capital,  and  in  one  of  the  richest  and  most  highly  civilized 
parts  of  the  kingdom,  had  much  greater  attractions.  At  pres- 
ent we  see  there  a  town  which  would,  a  hundred  and  sixty 
years  ago,  have  ranked,  in  population,  fourth  or  fifth  among 
the  towns  of  England.  The  brilliancy  of  the  shops  and  the 
luxury  of  the  private  dwellings  far  surpasses  anything  that 
England  could  then  show.  When  the  court,  soon  after  the 
Restoration,  visited  Tunbridge  Wells,  there  was  no  town : 
but,  within  a  mile  of  the  spring,  rustic  cottages,  somewhat 
cleaner  and  neater  than  the  ordinary  cottages  of  that  time, 
were  scattered  over  the  heath.  Some  of  these  cabins  were 
movable,  and  were  carried  on  sledges  from  one  part  of  the 
common  to  another.  To  these  huts  men  of  fashion,  weaned 
with  the  din  and  smoke  of  London,  sometimes  came  in  the 
summer  to  breathe  fresh  air,  and  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  rural 
life.  During  the  season  a  kind  of  fair  was  daily  held  near 
the  fountain.  The  wives  and  daughters  of  the  Kentish  farm- 
ers came  from  the  neighboring  villages  with  cream,  cherries, 
wheat -ears,  and  quails.  To  chaffer  with  them,  to  flirt  with 
them,  to  praise  their  straw  hats  and  tight  heels,  was  a  refresh- 
ing pastime  to  voluptuaries  sick  of  the  airs  of  actresses  and 
maids  of  honor.  Milliners,  toymen,  and  jewellers  came  down 
from  London,  and  opened  a  bazaar  under  the  trees.  In  one 
booth  the  politician  might  find  his  coffee  and  the  London  Ga- 
zette ;  in  another  were  gamblers  playing  deep  at  basset ;  and, 
on  fine  evenings,  the  fiddlers  were  in  attendance,  and  there 
were  morris-dances  on  the  elastic  turf  of  the  bowling-green. 
In  1685  a  subscription  had  just  been  raised  among  those  who 
frequented  the  wells  for  building  a  church,  which  the  Tories, 

*  Tour  in  Derbyshire,  by  Thomas  Browne,  son  of  Sir  Thomas.' 


CH.  IH.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  321 

who  then  domineered  everywhere,  insisted  on  dedicating  to 
Saint  Charles  the  Martyr.* 

But  at  the  head  of  the  English  watering-places,  without  a 
rival,  was  Bath.  The  springs  of  that  city  had  been  renowned 
from  the  days  of  the  Romans.  It  had  been,  during 
many  centuries,  the  seat  of  a  bishop.  The  sick  re- 
paired thither  from  every  part  of  the  realm.  The  King  some- 
times held  his  court  there.  Nevertheless,  Bath  was  then  a 
maze  of  only  four  or  five  hundred  houses,  crowded  within  an 
old  wall  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Avon.  Pictures  of  what  were 
considered  as  the  finest  of  those  houses  are  still  extant,  and 
greatly  resemble  the  lowest  rag-shops  and  pothouses  of  Rat- 
cliffe  Highway.  Travellers  indeed  complained  loudly  of  the 
narrowness  and  meanness  of  the  streets.  That  beautiful  city 
which  charms  even  eyes  familiar  with  the  masterpieces  of 
Brarnante  and  Palladio,  and  which  the  genius  of  Anstey  and 
of  Smollett,  of  Frances  Burney  and  of  Jane  Austen,  has  made 
classic  ground,  had  not  begun  to  exist.  Milsom  Street  itself 
was  an  open  field  lying  far  beyond  the  walls ;  and  hedge-rows 
intersected  the  space  which  is  now  covered  by  the  Crescent 
and  the  Circus.  The  poor  patients  to  whom  the  waters  had 
been  recommended  lay  on  straw  in  a  place  which,  to  use  the 
language  of  a  contemporary  physician,  was  a  covert  rather 
than  a  lodging.  As  to  the  comforts  and  luxuries  which  were 
to  be  found  in  the  interior  of  the  houses  of  Bath  by  the  fash- 
ionable visitors  who  resorted  thither  in  search  of  health  or 
amusement,  we  possess  information  more  complete  and  mi- 
nute than  can  generally  be  obtained  on  such  subjects.  A 
writer  who  published  an  account  of  that  city  about  sixty  years 
after  the  Revolution  has  accurately  described  the  changes 
which  had  taken  place  within  his  own  recollection.  He  as- 
sures us  that,  in  his  younger  days,  the  gentlemen  who  visited 
the  springs  slept  in  rooms  hardly  as  good  as  the  garrets  which 
he  lived  to  see  occupied  by  footmen.  The  floors  of  the  din- 
ing-rooms were  uncarpeted,  and  were  colored  brown  with  a 

*  Memoires  de  Grammont ;  Hasted's  History  of  Kent ;  Tunbridge  Wells,  a  Com- 
edy, 1678;  Causton's  Tunbridgialia,  1688;  Metellus,  a  poem  on  Tunbridge  Wells, 
1693. 

I.— 21 


322  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  Ill 

wash  made  of  soot  and  small-beer,  in  order  to  hide  the  dirt. 
Not  a  wainscot  was  painted.  Not  a  hearth  or  a  chimney- 
piece  was  of  marble.  A  slab  of  common  freestone  and  fire- 
irons  which  had  cost  from  three  to  four  shillings  were  thought 
sufficient  for  any  fireplace.  The  best  apartments  were  hung 
with  coarse  woollen  stuff,  and  were  furnished  with  rush-bot- 
tomed chairs.  Readers  who  take  an  interest  in  the  progress 
of  civilization  and  of  the  useful  arts  will  be  grateful  to  the 
humble  topographer  who  has  recorded  these  facts,  and  will 
perhaps  wish  that  historians  of  far  higher  pretensions  had 
sometimes  spared  a  few  pages  from  military  evolutions  and 
political  intrigues,  for  the  purpose  of  letting  us  know  how  the 
parlors  and  bedchambers  of  our  ancestors  looked.* 

The  position  of  London,  relatively  to  the  other  towns  of 
the  empire,  was,  in  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second,  far  higher 
than  at  present.  For  at  present  the  population  of 
London  is  little  more  than  six  times  the  population 
of  Manchester  or  of  Liverpool.  In  the  days  of  Charles  the 
Second  the  population  of  London  was  more  than  seventeen 
times  the  population  of  Bristol  or  of  Norwich.  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  any  other  instance  can  be  mentioned  of  a 
great  kingdom  in  which  the  first  city  was  more  than  seven- 
teen times  as  large  as  the  second.  There  is  reason  to  believe 
that,  in  1685,  London  had  been,  during  about  half  a  century, 
the  most  populous  capital  in  Europe.  The  inhabitants,  who 
are  now  at  least  nineteen  hundred  thousand,  were  then  prob- 
ably little  more  than  half  a  million.f  London  had  in  the 
world  only  one  commercial  rival,  now  long  ago  outstripped, 
the  mighty  and  opulent  Amsterdam.  English  writers  boasted 
of  the  forest  of  masts  and  yard-arms  which  covered  the  river 


*  See  Wood's  History  of  Bath,  1749;  Evelyn's  Diary,  June  27,  1654;  Pepys's 
Diary,  June  12,1668;  Stukeley's  Itinerarium  Curiosum;  Collinson's  Somerset- 
shire ;  Dr.  Peirce's  History  and  Memoirs  of  the  Bath,  1713,  Book  I.,  Chap,  viii.,  Obs. 
2,  1684.  I  have  consulted  several  old  maps  and  pictures  of  Bath,  particularly  one 
curious  map  which  is  surrounded  by  views  of  the  principal  buildings.  It  bears 
the  date  of  171V. 

f  According  to  King  530,000  (1848).  In  1851  the  population  of  London  ex- 
ceeded 2,300,000  (1857). 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  323 

from  the  Bridge  to  the  Tower,  and  of  the  stupendous  sums 
which  were  collected  at  the  custom-house  in  Thames  Street. 
There  is,  indeed,  no  doubt  that  the  trade  of  the  metropolis 
then  bore  a  far  greater  proportion  than  at  present  to  the 
whole  trade  of  the  country ;  yet  to  our  generation  the  honest 
vaunting  of  our  ancestors  must  appear  almost  ludicrous.  The 
shipping  which  they  thought  incredibly  great  appears  not  to 
have  exceeded  seventy  thousand  tons.  This  was,  indeed,  then 
more  than  a  third  of  the  whole  tonnage  of  the  kingdom,  but 
is  now  less  than  a  fourth  of  the  tonnage  of  Newcastle,  and  is 
nearly  equalled  by  the  tonnage  of  the  steam  vessels  of  the 
Thames.  The  customs  of  London  amounted,  in  1685,  to  about 
three  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  pounds  a  year.  In  our 
time  the  net  duty  paid  annually,  at  the  same  place,  exceeds 
ten  millions.* 

Whoever  examines  the  maps  of  London  which  were  pub- 
lished toward  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second 
will  see  that  only  the  nucleus  of  the  present  capital  then  ex- 
isted. The  town  did  not,  as  now,  fade  by  imperceptible  de- 
grees into  the  country.  No  long  avenues  of  villas,  embow- 
ered in  lilacs  and  laburnums,  extended  from  the  great  centre 
of  wealth  and  civilization  almost  to  the  boundaries  of  Middle- 
sex and  far  into  the  heart  of  Kent  and  Surrey.  In  the  east, 
no  part  of  the  immense  line  of  warehouses  and  artificial  lakes 
which  now  stretches  from  the  Tower  to  Blackwall  had  even 
been  projected.  On  the  west,  scarcely  one  of  those  stately 
piles  of  building  which  are  inhabited  by  the  noble  and 
wealthy  was  in  existence;  and  Chelsea,  which  is  now  peo- 
pled by  more  than  forty  thousand  human  beings,  was  a  quiet 
country  village  with  about  a  thousand  inhabitants.f  On  the 


*  Macpherson's  History  of  Commerce ;  Chalmers's  Estimate ;  Chamberlayne's 
State  of  England,  1684.  The  tonnage  of  the  steamers  belonging  to  the  port  of 
London  was,  at  the  end  of  1847,  about  60,000  tons.  The  customs  of  the  port,  from 
1842  to  1845,  very  nearly  averaged  11,000,000/.  (1848).  In  1854  the  tonnage  of 
the  steamers  of  the  port  of  London  amounted  to  138,000  tons,  without  reckoning 
vessels  of  less  than  fifty  tons  (1857). 

f  Lyson's  Environs  of  London.  The  baptisms  at  Chelsea,  between  1680  and 
1690,  were  only  42  a  year. 


324  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

north,  cattle  fed,  and  sportsmen  wandered  with  dogs  and  guns, 
over  the  site  of  the  borough  of  Marylebone,  and  over  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  space  now  covered  by  the  boroughs  of 
Finsbury  and  of  the  Tower  Hamlets.  Islington  was  almost 
a  solitude ;  and  poets  loved  to  contrast  its  silence  and  repose 
with  the  din  and  turmoil  of  the  monster  London.*  On  the 
south  the  capital  is  now  connected  with  its  suburb  by  several 
bridges,  not  inferior  in  magnificence  and  solidity  to  the  no- 
blest works  of  the  Cassars.  In  1685,  a  single  line  of  irregular 
arches,  overhung  by  piles  of  mean  and  crazy  houses,  and  gar- 
nished, after  a  fashion  worthy  of  the  naked  barbarians  of  Da- 
homy,  with  scores  of  mouldering  heads,  impeded  the  naviga- 
tion of  the  river. 

Of  the  metropolis,  the  City,  properly  so  called,  was  the  most 

important  division.     At  the  time  of  the  Restoration  it  had 

been  built,  for  the  most  part,  of  wood  and  plaster : 

The  City. 

the  few  bricks  that  were  used  were  ill  baked ;  the 
booths  where  goods  were  exposed  to  sale  projected  far  into 
the  streets,  and  were  overhung  by  the  upper  stories.  A  few 
specimens  of  this  architecture  may  still  be  seen  in  those  dis- 
tricts which  were  not  reached  by  the  great  fire.  That  fire 
had,  in  a  few  days,  covered  a  space  of  little  less  than  a  square 
mile  with  the  ruins  of  eighty-nine  churches  and  of  thirteen 
thousand  houses.  But  the  City  had  risen  again  with  a  celer- 
ity which  had  excited  the  admiration  of  neighboring  coun- 
tries. Unfortunately,  the  old  lines  of  the  streets  had  been, 
to  a  great  extent,  preserved  ;  and  those  lines,  originally  traced 
in  an  age  when  even  princesses  performed  their  journeys  on 
horseback,  were  often  too  narrow  to  allow  wheeled  carriages 
to  pass  each  other  with  ease,  and  were,  therefore,  ill  adapted 
for  the  residence  of  wealthy  persons  in  an  age  when  a  coach 
and  six  was  a  fashionable  luxury.  The  style  of  building  was, 
however,  far  superior  to  that  of  the  City  which  had  perished. 
The  ordinary  material  was  brick,  of  much  better  quality  than 
had  formerly  been  used.  On  the  sites  of  the  ancient  parish 
churches  had  arisen  a  multitude  of  new  domes,  towers,  and 

*  Cowley,  Discourse  of  Solitude. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  325 

spires  which  bore  the  mark  of  the  fertile  genius  of  Wren.  In 
every  place  save  one  the  traces  of  the  great  devastation  had 
been  completely  effaced.  But  the  crowds  of  workmen,  the 
scaffolds,  and  the  masses  of  hewn  stone  were  still  to  be  seen 
where  the  noblest  of  Protestant  temples  was  slowly  rising  on 
the  ruins  of  the  old  Cathedral  of  Saint  Paul.* 

The  whole  character  of  the  City  has,  since  that  time,  under- 
gone a  complete  change.  At  present  the  bankers,  the  mer- 
chants, and  the  chief  shopkeepers  repair  thither  on  six  morn- 
ings of  every  week  for  the  transaction  of  business ;  but  they 
reside  in  other  quarters  of  the  metropolis,  or  at  suburban 
country-seats  surrounded  by  shrubberies  and  flower-gardens. 
This  revolution  in  private  habits  has  produced  a  political  rev- 
olution of  no  small  importance.  The  City  is  no  longer  re- 
garded by  the  wealthiest  traders  with  that  attachment  which 
every  man  naturally  feels  for  his  home.  It  is  no  longer  as- 
sociated in  their  minds  with  domestic  affections  and  endear- 
ments. The  fireside,  the  nursery,  the  social  table,  the  quiet 
bed,  are  not  there.  Lombard  Street  and  Threadneedle  Street 
are  merely  places  where  men  toil  and  accumulate.  They  go 
elsewhere  to  enjoy  and  to  expend.  On  a  Sunday,  or  in  an 
evening  after  the  hours  of  business,  some  courts  and  alleys, 
which  a  few  hours  before  had  been  alive  with  hurrying  feet 
and  anxious  faces,  are  as  silent  as  the  glades  of  a  forest.  The 
chiefs  of  the  'mercantile  interest  are  no  longer  citizens.  They 
avoid,  they  almost  contemn,  municipal  honors  and  duties. 
Those  honors  and  duties  are  abandoned  to  men  who,  though 
useful  and  highly  respectable,  seldom  belong  to  the  princely 
commercial  houses  of  which  the  names  are  renowned  through- 
out the  world. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  the  City  was  the  merchant's 


*  The  fullest  and  most  trustworthy  information  about  the  state  of  the  buildings 
of  London  at  this  time  is  to  be  derived  from  the  maps  and  drawings  in  the  British 
Museum  and  in  the  Pepysian  Library.  The  badness  of  the  bricks  in  the  old  build- 
ings of  London  is  particularly  mentioned  in  the  Travels  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo. 
There  is  an  account  of  the  works  at  Saint  Paul's  in  Ward's  London  Spy.  I  am 
almost  ashamed  to  quote  such  nauseous  balderdash ;  but  I  have  been  forced  to 
descend  even  lower,  if  possible,  in  search  of  materials. 


326  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

residence.  Those  mansions  of  the  great  old  burghers  which 
still  exist  have  been  turned  into  counting-houses  and  ware- 
houses ;  but  it  is  evident  that  they  were  originally  not  infe- 
rior in  magnificence  to  the  dwellings  which  were  then  in- 
habited by  the  nobility.  They  sometimes  stand  in  retired 
and  gloomy  courts,  and  are  accessible  only  by  inconvenient 
passages :  but  their  dimensions  are  ample,  and  their  aspect 
stately.  The  entrances  are  decorated  with  richly  carved  pil- 
lars and  canopies.  The  staircases  and  landing-places  are  not 
wanting  in  grandeur.  The  floors  are  sometimes  of  wood,  tes- 
sellated after  the  fashion  of  France.  The  palace  of  Sir  Rob- 
ert Clayton,  in  the  Old  Jewrv,  contained  a  superb  banquet- 
ing-room  wainscoted  with  cedar,  and  adorned  with  battles  of 
gods  and  giants  in  fresco.*  Sir  Dudley  North  expended  four 
thousand  pounds,  a  sum -which  would  then  have  been  impor- 
tant to  a  duke,  on  the  rich  furniture  of  his  reception  rooms 
in  Basinghall  Street.f  In  such  abodes,  under  the  last  Stuarts, 
the  heads  of  the  great  firms  lived  splendidly  and  hospitably. 
To  their  dwelling-place  they  were  bound  by  the  strongest 
ties  of  interest  and  affection.  There  they  had  passed  their 
youth,  had  made  their  friendships,  had  courted  their  wives, 
had  seen  their  children  grow  up,  had  laid  the  remains  of  their 
parents  in  the  earth,  and  expected  that  their  own  remains 
would  be  laid.  That  intense  patriotism  which  is  peculiar  to 
the  members  of  societies  congregated  within  a  narrow  space 
was,  in  such  circumstances,  strongly  developed.  London  was, 
to  the  Londoner,  what  Athens  was  to  the  Athenian  of  the 
age  of  Pericles,  what  Florence  was  to  the  Florentine  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  The  citizen  was  proud  of  the  grandeur  of 
his  city,  punctilious  about  her  claims  to  respect,  ambitious  of 
her  offices,  and  zealous  for  her  franchises. 

At  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  the  pride 
of  the  Londoners  was  smarting  from  a  cruel  mortification. 
The  old  charter  had  been  taken  away;  and  the  magistracy  had 
been  remodelled.  All  the  civic  functionaries  were  Tories: 


*  Evelyn's  Diary,  Sept.  20,  1672. 

f  Roger  North's  Life  of  Sir  Dudley  North. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  327 

and  the  Whigs,  though  in  numbers  and  in  wealth  superior  to 
their  opponents,  found  themselves  excluded  from  every  local 
dignity.  Nevertheless,  the  external  splendor  of  the  munici- 
pal government  was  not  diminished,  nay,  was  rather  increased 
by  this  change.  For,  under  the  administration  of  some  Puri- 
tans who  had  lately  borne  rule,  the  ancient  fame  of  the  City 
for  good  cheer  had  declined :  but  under  the  new  magistrates, 
who  belonged  to  a  more  festive  party,  and  at  whose  boards 
guests  of  rank  and  fashion  from  beyond  Temple  Bar  were 
often  seen,  the  Guildhall  and  the  halls  of  the  great  companies 
were  enlivened  by  many  sumptuous  banquets.  During  these 
repasts,  odes,  composed  by  the  poet  -  laureate  of  the  corpora- 
tion, in  praise  of  the  King,  the  Duke,  and  the  Mayor,  were 
sung  to  music.  The  drinking  was  deep,  the  shouting  loud. 
An  observant  Tory,  who  had  often  shared  in  these  revels,  has 
remarked  that  the  practice  of  huzzaing  after  drinking  healths 
dates  from  this  joyous  period.* 

The  magnificence  displayed  by. the  first  civic  magistrate 
was  almost  regal.  The  gilded  coach,  indeed,  which  is  now 
annually  admired  by  the  crowd,  was  not  yet  a  part  of  his 
state.  On  great  occasions  he  appeared  on  horseback,  attended 
by  a  long  cavalcade  inferior  in  magnificence  only  to  that 
which,  before  a  coronation,  escorted  the  sovereign  from  the 
Tower  to  Westminster.  The  Lord  Mayor  was  never  seen  in 
public  without  his  rich  robe,  his  hood  of  black  velvet,  his  gold 
chain,  his  jewel,  and  a  great  attendance  of  harbingers  and 
guards.f  Nor  did  the  world  find  anything  ludicrous  in  the 
pomp  which  constantly  surrounded  him.  For  it  was  not 
more  than  became  the  place  which,  as  wielding  4he  strength 
and  representing  the  dignity  of  the  City  of  London,  he  was 
entitled  to  occupy  in  the  state.  That  City,  being  then  not 
only  without  equal  in  the  country,  but  without  second,  had, 

*  North's  Examen.  This  amusing  writer  has  preserved  a  specimen  of  the  sub- 
lime raptures  in  which  the  Pindar  of  the  City  indulged : 

"  The  worshipful  Sir  John  Moor  ! 
After  age  that  name  adore  !" 

f  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684 ;  Angliae  Metropolis,  1690;  Seymour's 
London,  1*734. 


328  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IIL 

during  five-and-forty  years,  exercised  almost  as  great  an  influ- 
ence on  the  politics  of  England  as  Paris  lias,  in  our  own  time, 
exercised  on  the  politics  of  France.  In  intelligence  London 
was  greatly  in  advance  of  every  other  part  of  the  kingdom. 
A  government  supported  and  trusted  by  London,  could  in  a 
day  obtain  such  pecuniary  means  as  it  would  have  taken 
months  to  collect  from  the  rest  of  the  island.  Nor  were  the 
military  resources  of  the  capital  to  be  despised.  The  power 
which  the  Lords -lieutenant  exercised  in  other  parts  of  the 
kingdom  was  in  London  intrusted  to  a  commission  of  emi- 
nent citizens.  Under  the  order  of  this  commission  were 
twelve  regiments  of  foot  and  two  regiments  of  horse.  An 
army  of  drapers'  apprentices  and  journeymen  tailors,  with 
common  councilmen  for  captains  and  aldermen  for  colonels, 
might  not  indeed  have  been  able  to  stand  its  ground  against 
regular  troops ;  but  there  were  then  very  few  regular  troops 
in  the  kingdom.  A  town,  therefore,  which  could  send  forth, 
at  an  hour's  notice,  thousands  of  men,  abounding  in  natural 
courage,  provided  with  tolerable  weapons,  and  not  altogether 
untinctured  with  martial  discipline,  could  not  but  be  a  valua- 
ble ally  and  a  formidable  enemy.  It  was  not  forgotten  that 
Ilampden  and  Pym  had  been  protected  from  lawless  tyranny 
by  the  London  trainbands ;  that,  in  the  great  crisis  of  the 
civil  war,  the  London  trainbands  had  marched  to  raise  the 
siege  of  Gloucester ;  or  that,  in  the  movement  against  the 
military  tyrants  which  followed  the  downfall  of  Richard 
Cromwell,  the  London  trainbands  had  borne  a  signal  part. 
In  truth,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that,  but  for  the  hos- 
tility of  the»  City,  Charles  the  First  would  never  have  been 
vanquished,  and  that,  without  the  help  of  the  City,  Charles 
the  Second  could  scarcely  have  been  restored. 

These  considerations  may  serve  to  explain  why,  in  spite  of 
that  attraction  which  had,  during  a  long  course  of  years,  grad- 
ually drawn  the  aristocracy  westward,  a  few  men  of  high  rank 
had  continued,  till  a  very  recent  period,  to  dwell  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  Exchange  and  of  the  Guildhall.  Shaftesbury  and 
Buckingham,  while  engaged  in  bitter  and  unscrupulous  op- 
position to  the  government,  had  thought  that  they  could  no- 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  329 

where  carry  on  their  intrigues  so  conveniently  or  so  securely 
as  under  the  protection  of  the  City  magistrates  and  the  City 
militia.  Shaftesbury  had  therefore  lived  in  Aldersgate  Street, 
at  a  house  which  may  still  be  easily  known  by  pilasters  and 
wreaths,  the  graceful  work  of  Inigo.  Buckingham  had  or- 
dered his  mansion  near  Charing  Cross,  once  the  abode  of  the 
Archbishops  of  York,  to  be  pulled  down ;  and,  while  streets 
and  alleys  which  are  still  named  after  him  were  rising  on  that 
site,  chose  to  reside  in  Dowgate.* 

These,  however,  were  rare  exceptions.     Almost  all  the  no- 
ble families  of  England  had  long  migrated  beyond  the  walls. 
The  district  where  most  of  their  town  houses  stood 

I-ashionable         ••     -/.  T       rr  i  «  • 

part  of  the       hes  between  the  City  and  the  regions  which  are  now 

capital.  . 

considered  as  fashionable.  A  few  great  men  still 
retained  their  hereditary  hotels  in  the  Strand.  The  stately 
dwellings  on  the  south  and  west  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  the 
Piazza  of  Covent  Garden,  Southampton  Square,  which  is  now 
called  Bloomsbury  Square,  and  King's  Square  in  Soho  Fields, 
which  is  now  called  Soho  Square,  wrere  among  the  favorite 
spots.  Foreign  princes  were  carried  to  see  Bloomsbury  Square, 
as  one  of  the  wonders  of  England.f  Soho  Square,  which  had 
just  been  built,  was  to  our  ancestors  a  subject  of  pride  with 
which  their  posterity  will  hardly  sympathize.  Monmouth 
Square  had  been  the  name  while  the  fortunes  of  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth  flourished ;  and  on  the  southern  side  towered  his 
mansion.  The  front,  though  ungraceful,  was  lofty  and  richly 
adorned.  The  walls  of  the  principal  apartments  were  finely 
sculptured  with  fruit,  foliage,  and  armorial  bearings,  and  were 
hung  with  embroidered  satin.;}:  Every  trace  of  this  magnifi- 
cence has  long  disappeared ;  and  no  aristocratical  mansion  is 
to  be  found  in  that  once,  aristocratical  quarter.  A  little  way 
north  from  Holborn,  and  on  the  verge  of  the  pastures  and 
corn-fields,  rose  two  celebrated  palaces,  each  with  an  ample 
garden.  One  of  them,  then  called  Southampton  House,  and 

*  North's  Examen,  116;  Wood,  Ath. Ox.  Shaftesbury;  The  Duke  of  B.'s  Litany, 
f  Travels  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo. 

\  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684 ;  Pennant's  London  ;  Smith's  Life  of 
Nollekens. 


330  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

subsequently  Bedford  House,  was  removed  about  fifty  years 
ago  to  make  room  for  a  new  city,  which  now  covers,  with  its 
squares,  streets,  and  churches,  a  vast  area,  renowned  in  the 
seventeenth  century  for  peaches  and  snipes.  The  other,  Mon- 
tague House,  celebrated  for  its  frescoes  and  furniture,  was,  a 
few  months  after  the  death  of  Charles  the  Second,  burned  to 
the  ground,  and  was  speedily  succeeded  by  a  more  magnificent 
Montague  House,  which,  having  been  long  the  repository  of 
such  various  and  precious  treasures  of  art,  science,  and  learn- 
ing as  were  scarcely  ever  before  assembled  under  a  single  roof, 
has  now  given  place  to  an  edifice  more  magnificent  still.* 

Nearer  to  the  court,  on  a  space  called  Saint  James's  Fields, 
had  just  been  built  Saint  James's  Square  and  Jermyn  Street. 
Saint  James's  Church  had  recently  been  opened  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  inhabitants  of  this  new  quarter,  f  Gold- 
en Square,  which  was  in  the  next  generation  inhabited  by 
lords  and  ministers  of  state,  had  not  yet  been  begun.  Indeed 
the  only  dwellings  to  be  seen  on  the  north  of  Piccadilly  were 
three  or  four  isolated  and  almost  rural  mansions,  of  which  the 
most  celebrated  was  the  costly  pile  erected  by  Clarendon,  and 
nicknamed  Dunkirk  House.  It  had  been  purchased  after  its 
founder's  downfall  by  the  Duke  of  Albemarle.  The  Claren- 
don Hotel  and  Albemarle  Street  still  preserve  the  memory  of 
the  site. 

He  who  then  rambled  to  what  is  now  the  gayest  and  most 
crowded  part  of  Kegent  Street  found  himself  in  a  solitude, 
and  was  sometimes  so  fortunate  as  to  have  a  shot  at  a  wood- 
cock.^: On  the  north  the  Oxford  road  ran  between  hedges. 
Three  or  four  hundred  yards  to  the  south  were  the  garden 
walls  of  a  few  great  houses  which  were  considered  as  quite 
out  of  town.  On  the  west  was  a  jneadow  renowned  for  a 
spring  from  which,  long  afterward,  Conduit  Street  wras  named. 
On  the  east  wras  a  field  not  to  be  passed  without  a  shudder  by 

*  Evelyn's  Diary,  Oct.  10,  1683,  Jan.  19, 168f . 

f  Stat.  1  Jac.  II.,  c.  22 ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  Dec.  7, 1684. 

j  Old  General  Oglethorpe,  who  died  in  1785,  used  to  boast  that  he  had  shot  birds 
here  in  Anne's  reign.  See  Pennant's  London,  and  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for 
July,  1785. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  331 

any  Londoner  of  that  age.  There,  as  in  a  place  far  from  the 
haunts  of  men,  had  been  dug,  twenty  years  before,  when  the 
great  plague  was  raging,  a  pit  into  which  the  dead  carts  had 
nightly  shot  corpses  by  scores.  It  was  popularly  believed 
that  the  earth  was  deeply  tainted  with  infection,  and  could 
not  be  disturbed  without  imminent  risk  to  human  life.  No 
foundations  were  laid  there  till  two  generations  had  passed 
without  any  return  of  the  pestilence,  and  till  the  ghastly  spot 
had  long  been  surrounded  by  buildings.* 

We  should  greatly  err  if  we  were  to  suppose  that  any  of 
the  streets  and  squares  then  bore  the  same  aspect  as  at  pres- 
ent. The  great  majority  of  the  houses,  indeed,  have,  since  that 
time,  been  wholly,  or  in  great  part,  rebuilt.  If  the  most  fash- 
ionable parts  of  the  capital  could  be  placed  before  us,  such 
as  they  then  were,  we  should  be  disgusted  by  their  squalid 
appearance,  and  poisoned  by  their  noisome  atmosphere. 

In  Covent  Garden  a  filthy  and  noisy  market  was  held  close 
to  the  dwellings  of  the  great.  Fruit-women  screamed,  carters 
fought,  cabbage-stalks  and  rotten  apples  accumulated  in  heaps 
at  the  thresholds  of  the  Countess  of  Berkshire  and  of  the 
Bishop  of  Durham.f 

The  centre  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  was  an  open  space  where 
the  rabble  congregated  every  evening,  within  a  few  yards  of 
Cardigan  House  and  Winchester  House,  to  hear  mountebanks 
harangue,  to  see  bears  dance,  and  to  set  dogs  at  oxen.  Rub- 
bish was  shot  in  every  part  of  the  area.  Horses  were  exer- 
cised there.  The  beggars  were  as  noisy  and  importunate  as 
in  the  worst  governed  cities  of  the  Continent.  A  Lincoln's 
Inn  mumper  was  a  proverb.  The  whole  fraternity  knew  the 
arms  and  liveries  of  every  charitably  disposed  grandee  in  the 
neighborhood,  and,  as  soon  as  his  lordship's  coach  and  six  ap- 
peared, came  hopping  and  crawling  in  crowds  to  persecute 
him.  These  disorders  lasted,  in  spite  of  many  accidents,  and 

*  The  pest  field  will  be  seen  in  maps  of  London  as  late  as  the  end  of  George 
the  First's  reign. 

f  See  a  very  curious  plan  of  Covent  Garden  made  about  1690,  and  engraved  for 
Smith's  History  of  Westminster.  See  also  Hogarth's  Morning,  painted  while  some 
of  the  houses  in  the  Piazza  were  still  occupied  by  people  of  fashion. 


332  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

of  some  legal  proceedings,  till,  in  the  reign  of  George  the  Sec- 
ond, Sir  Joseph  Jekyll,  Master  of  the  Rolls,  was  knocked  down 
and  nearly  killed  in  the  middle  of  the  square.  Then  at  length 
palisades  were  set  up,  and  a  pleasant  garden  laid  out.* 

Saint  James's  Square  was  a  receptacle  for  all  the  offal  and 
cinders,  for  all  the  dead  cats  and  dead  dogs  of  Westminster. 
At  one  time  a  cudgel-player  kept  the  ring  there.  At  another 
time  an  impudent  squatter  settled  himself  there,  and  built  a 
shed  for  rubbish  under  the  windows  of  the  gilded  saloons  in 
which  the  first  magnates  of  the  realm,  Norfolk,  Ormond,  Kent, 
and  Pembroke,  gave  banquets  and  balls.  It  was  not  till  these 
nuisances  had  lasted  through  a  whole  generation,  and  till  much 
had  been  written  about  them,  that  the  inhabitants  applied  to 
parliament  for  permission  to  put  up  rails  and  to  plant  trees. f 

When  such  was  the  state  of  the  region  inhabited  by  the 
most  luxurious  portion  of  society,  we  may  easily  believe  that 
the  great  body  of  the  population  suffered  what  would  now  be 
considered  as  insupportable  grievances.  The  pavement  was 
detestable :  all  foreigners  cried  shame  upon  it.  The  drainage 
was  so  bad  that  in  rainy  weather  the  gutters  soon  became  tor- 
rents. Several  facetious  poets  have  commemorated  the  fury 
with  which  these  black  rivulets  roared  down  Snow  Hill  and 
Ludgate  Hill,  bearing  to  Fleet  Ditch  a  vast  tribute  of  animal 
and  vegetable  filth  from  the  stalls  of  butchers  and  green-gro- 
cers. This  flood  was  profusely  thrown  to  right  and  left  by 
coaches  and  carts.  To  keep  as  far  from  the  carriage-road  as 
possible  was  therefore  the  wish  of  every  pedestrian.  The  mild 

*  London  Spy;  Tom  Brown's  Comical  View  of  London  and  Westminster; 
Turner's  Propositions  for  the  employing  of  the  Poor,  1678 ;  Daily  Courant  and 
Daily  Journal  of  June  7, 1733  ;  Case  of  Michael  v.  Allestree,  in  1676,  2  Levinz,  p. 
172.  Michael  had  been  run  over  by  two  horses  which  Allestree  was  breaking  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  The  declaration  set  forth  that  the  defendant  "  porta  deux 
chivals  ungovernable  en  un  coach,  et  improvide,  incaute,  et  absque  debita  conside- 
ratione  ineptitudinis  loci  la  eux  drive  pur  eux  faire  tractable  et  apt  pur  un  coach, 
quels  chivals,  pur  ceo  que,per  leur  ferocite,  ne  poient  estre  rule,  curre  sur  le  plaintiff 
et  le  noie." 

f  Stat.  12  Geo.  I.,  c.  25  ;  Commons'  Journals,  Feb.  25,  March  2,  172§  ;  London 
Gardener,  1712;  Evening  Post,  March  23,  1731.  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  this 
number  of  the  Evening  Post ;  I  therefore  quote  it  on  the  faith  of  Mr.  Malcolm,  who 
mentions  it  in  his  History  of  London. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  333 

and  timid  gave  the  wall.  The  bold  and  athletic  took  it. 
If  two  roisterers  met,  they  cocked  their  hats  in  each  other's 
faces,  and  pushed  each  other  about  till  the  weaker  was  shoved 
toward  the  kennel.  If  he  was  a  mere  bully  he  sneaked  off, 
muttering  that  he  should  find  a  time.  If  he  was  pugnacious, 
the  encounter  probably  ended  in  a  duel  behind  Montague 
House.* 

The  houses  were  not  numbered.  There  would  indeed  have 
been  little  advantage  in  numbering  them ;  for  of  the  coach- 
men, chairmen,  porters,  and  errand-boys  of  London,  a  very 
small  proportion  could  read.  It  was  necessary  to  use  marks 
which  the  most  ignorant  could  understand.  The  shops  were 
therefore  distinguished  by  painted  or  sculptured  signs,  which 
gave  a  gay  and  grotesque  aspect  to  the  streets.  The  walk 
from  Charing  Cross  to  Whitechapel  lay  through  an  endless 
succession  of  Saracens'  Heads,  Royal  Oaks,  Blue  Bears,  and 
Golden  Lambs,  which  disappeared  when  they  were  no  longer 
required  for  the  direction  of  the  common  people. 

When  the  evening  closed  in,  the  difficulty  and  danger  of 
walking  about  London  became  serious  indeed.  The  garret 
windows  were  opened,  and  pails  were  emptied,  with  little 
regard  to  those  who  were  passing  below.  Falls,  bruises,  and 
broken  bones  were  of  constant  occurrence.  For,  till  the  last 
year  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  most  of  the  streets 
were  left  in  profound  darkness.  Thieves  and  robbers  plied 
their  trade  with  impunity :  yet  they  were  hardly  so  terrible 
to  peaceable  citizens  as  another  class  of  ruffians.  It  was  a 
favorite  amusement  of  dissolute  young  gentlemen  to  swagger 
by  night  about  the  town,  breaking  windows,  upsetting  sedans, 
beating  quiet  men,  and  offering  rude  caresses  to  pretty  wromen. 
Several  dynasties  of  these  tyrants  had,  since  the  Restoration, 
domineered  over  the  streets.  The  Mans  and  Tityre  Tus  had 
given  place  to  the  Hectors,  and  the  Hectors  had  been  recent- 
ly succeeded  by  the  Scourers.  At  a  later  period  arose  the 
Nicker,  the  Hawcubite,  and  the  yet  more  dreaded  name  of 

*  Lettres  sur  les  Anglois,  written  early  in  the  reign  of  William  the  Third ; 
Swift's  City  Shower;  Gay's  Trivia.  Johnson  used  to  relate  a  curious  conversation 
which  he  had  with  his  mother  about  giving  and  taking  the  wall. 


334  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

Mohawk.*  The  machinery  for  keeping  the  peace  was  utter- 
poiiceof  ty  contemptible.  There  was  an  act  of  Common 
Council  which  provided  that  more  than  a  thousand 
watchmen  should  be  constantly  on  the  alert  in  the  city,  from 
sunset  to  sunrise,  and  that  every  inhabitant  should  take  his 
turn  of  duty.  But  this  act  was  negligently  executed.  Few 
of  those  who  were  summoned  left  their  homes ;  and  those  few 
generally  found  it  more  agreeable  to  tipple  in  ale-houses  than 
to  pace  the  streets.f 

It  ought  to  be  noticed  that,  in  the  last  year  of  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Second,  began  a  great  change  in  the  police  of 
Lighting  of  London,  a  change  which  has  perhaps  added  as  much 
London.  ^  ^ie  nappiness  of  the  body  of  the  people  as  revo- 
lutions of  much  greater  fame.  An  ingenious  projector,  named 
Edward  Heming,  obtained  letters-patent  conveying  to  him,  for 
a  term  of  years,  the  exclusive  right  of  lighting  up  London. 
He  undertook,  for  a  moderate  consideration,  to  place  a  light 
before  every  tenth  door,  on  moonless  nights,  from  Michaelmas 
to  Lady -day,  and  from  six  to  twelve  of  the  clock.  Those 
who  now  see  the  capital  all  the  year  round,  from  dusk  to 
dawn,  blazing  with  a  splendor  beside  which  the  illuminations 
for  La  Hogue  and  Blenheim  would  have  looked  pale,  may 
perhaps  smile  to  think  of  Heming's  lanterns,  which  glimmered 
feebly  before  one  house  in  ten  during  a  small  part  of  one 
night  in  three.  But  such  was  not  the  feeling  of  his  contem- 
poraries. His  scheme  was  enthusiastically  applauded,  and 
furiously  attacked.  The  friends  of  improvement  extolled  him 
as  the  greatest  of  all  the  benefactors  of  his  city.  What,  they 

*  Oldham's  Imitation  of  the  3d  Satire  of  Juvenal,  1682 ;  Shadwell's  Scourers, 
1690.  Many  other  authorities  will  readily  occur  to  all  who  are  acquainted  with 
the  popular  literature  of  that  and  the  succeeding  generation.  It  may  be  suspected 
that  some  of  the  Tityre  Tus,  like  good  Cavaliers,  broke  Milton's  windows  shortly 
after  the  Restoration.  I  am  confident  that  he  was  thinking  of  those  pests  of  Lon- 
don when  he  dictated  the  noble  lines : 

"And  in  luxurious  cities,  when  the  noise 
Of  riot  ascends  above  their  loftiest  towers, 
And  injury  and  outrage,  and  when  night 
Darkens  the  streets,  then  wander  forth  the  sons 
Of  Belial,  flown  with  insolence  and  wine." 

f  Seymour's  London. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.      .  335 

asked,  were  the  boasted  inventions  of  Archimedes,  when  com- 
pared with  the  achievement  of  the  man  who  had  turned  the 
nocturnal  shades  into  noonday  ?  In  spite  of  these  eloquent 
eulogies  the  cause  of  darkness  was  not  left  undefended. 
There  were  fools  in  that  age  who  opposed  the  introduction  of 
what  was  called  the  new  light  as  strenuously  as  fools  in  our 
age  have  opposed  the  introduction  of  vaccination  and  rail- 
roads, as  strenuously  as  the  fools  of  an  age  anterior  to  the 
dawn  of  history  doubtless  opposed  the  introduction  of  the 
plough  and  of  alphabetical  writing.  Many  years  after  the 
date  of  Heming's  patent  there  were  extensive  districts  in 
which  no  lamp  was  seen.* 

We  may  easily  imagine  what,  in  such  times,  must  have  been 

the  state  of  the  quarters  of  London  which  were  peopled  by 

the  outcasts  of  society.     Among  those  quarters  one 

Whitefriars.  .  J 

had  attained  a  scandalous  pre-eminence.  On  the 
confines  of  the  City  and  the  Temple  had  been  founded,  in 
the  thirteenth  century,  a  House  of  Carmelite  Friars,  distin- 
guished by  their  white  hoods.  The  precinct  of  this  house 
had,  before  the  Reformation,  been  a  sanctuary  for  criminals, 
and  still  retained  the  privilege  of  protecting  debtors  from 
arrest.  Insolvents  consequently  were  to  be  found  in  every 
dwelling,  from  cellar  to  garret.  Of  these  a  large  proportion 
were  knaves  and  libertines,  and  were  followed  to  their  asylum 
by  women  more  abandoned  than  themselves.  The  civil  power 
was  unable  to  keep  order  in  a  district  swarming  with  such 
inhabitants ;  and  thus  Whitefriars  became  the  favorite  resort 
of  all  who  wished  to  be  emancipated  from  the  restraints  of 
the  law.  Though  the  immunities  legally  belonging  to  the 
place  extended  only  to  cases  of  debt,  cheats,  false  witnesses, 
forgers,  and  highwaymen  found  refuge  there.  For  amidst  a 
rabble  so  desperate  no  peace  officer's  life  was  in  safety.  At 
the  cry  of  "  Rescue,"  bullies  with  swords  and  cudgels,  and 
termagant  hags  with  spits  and  broomsticks,  poured  forth  by 
hundreds ;  and  the  intruder  was  fortunate  if  he  escaped  back 


*  Angliae  Metropolis,  1690,  Sec.  17,  entitled  "Of  the  new  Lights;"  Seymour's 
London. 


336  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

into  Fleet  Street,  hustled,  stripped,  and  pumped  upon.  Even 
the  warrant  of  the  Chief-justice  of  England  could  not  be  ex- 
ecuted without  the  help  of  a  company  of  musketeers.  Such 
relics  of  the  barbarism  of  the  darkest  ages  were  to  be  found 
within  a  short  walk  of  the  chambers  where  Somers  was  study- 
ing history  and  law,  of  the  chapel  where  Tillotson  was  preach- 
ing, of  the  coffee-house  where  Dryderi  was  passing  judgment 
on  poems  and  plays,  and  of  the  hall  where  the  Royal  Society 
was  examining  the  astronomical  system  of  Isaac  Newton.* 

Each  of  the  two  cities  which  made  up  the  capital  of  England 
had  its  own  centre  of  attraction.  In  the  metropolis  of  com- 
merce the  point  of  convergence  was  the  Exchange ; 
in  the  metropolis  of  fashion  the  Palace.  But  the 
palace  did  not  retain  its  influence  so  long  as  the  Exchange. 
The  Revolution  completely  altered  the  relations  between  the 
court  and  the  higher  classes  of  society.  It  was  by  degrees 
discovered  that  the  King,  in  his  individual  capacity,  had  very 
little  to  give ;  that  coronets  and  garters,  bishoprics  and  em- 
bassies, lordships  of  the  Treasury  and  tellerships  of  the  Ex- 
chequer, nay,  even  charges  in  the  royal  stud  and  bedchamber, 
were  really  bestowed,  not  by  him,  but  by  his  advisers.  Every 
ambitious  and  covetous  man  perceived  that  he  would  consult 
his  own  interest  far  better  by  acquiring  the  dominion  of  a 
Cornish  borough,  and  by  rendering  good  service  to  the  minis- 
try during  a  critical  session,  than  by  becoming  the  companion, 
or  even  the  minion,  of  his  prince.  It  was,  therefore,  in  the 
antechambers,  not  of  George  the  First  and  of  George  the 
Second,  but  of  Walpole  and  of  Pelham,  that  the  daily  crowd 
of  courtiers  was  to  be  found.  It  is  also  to  be  remarked  that 
the  same  Revolution,  which  made  it  impossible  that  our  kings 
should  use  the  patronage  of  the  state  merely  for  the  purpose 
of  gratifying  their  personal  predilections,  gave  us  several  kings 
unfitted  by  their  education  and  habits  to  be  gracious  and  af- 
fable hosts.  They  had  been  born  and  bred  on  the  Continent. 
They  never  felt  themselves  at  home  in  our  island.  If  they 

*  Stowe's  Survey  of  London ;  ShadwelPs  Squire  of  Alsatia ;  Ward's  London 
Spy ;  Stat.  8  &  9  Gul.  III.,  c.  27. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN   1685.  337 

spoke  our  language,  they  spoke  it  inelegantly  and  with  effort. 
Our  national  character  they  never  fully  understood.  Our 
national  manners  they  hardly  attempted  to  acquire.  The 
most  important  part  of  their  duty  they  performed  better  than 
any  ruler  who  had  preceded  them :  for  they  governed  strictly 
according  to  law :  but  they  could  not  be  the  first  gentlemen 
of  the  realm,  the  heads  of  polite  society.  If  ever  they  un- 
bent, it  was  in  a  very  small  circle  where  hardly  an  English 
face  was  to  be  seen ;  and  they  were  never  so  happy  as  when 
they  could  escape  for  a  summer  to  their  native  land.  They 
had  indeed  their  days  of  reception  for  our  nobility  and  gen- 
try ;  but  the  reception  was  mere  matter  of  form,  and  became 
at  last  as  solemn  a  ceremony  as  a  funeral. 

Not  such  was  the  court  of  Charles  the  Second.  Whitehall, 
when  he  dwelt  there,  was  the  focus  of  political  intrigue  and 
of  fashionable  gayety.  Half  the  jobbing  and  half  the  flirt- 
ing of  the  metropolis  went  on  under  his  roof.  Whoever 
could  make  himself  agreeable  to  the  prince,  or  could  secure 
the  good  offices  of  the  mistress,  might  hope  to  rise  in  the 
world  without  rendering  any  service  to  the  government,  with- 
out being  even  known  by  sight  to  any  minister  of  state.  This 
courtier  got  a  frigate,  and  that  a  company ;  a  third,  the  par- 
don of  a  rich  offender ;  a  fourth,  a  lease  of  crown-land  on  easy 
terms.  If  the  King  notified  his  pleasure  that  a  briefless  law- 
yer should  be  made  a  judge,  or  that  a  libertine  baronet  should 
be  made  a  peer,  the  gravest  counsellors,  after  a  little  murmur- 
ing, submitted.*  Interest,  therefore,  drew  a  constant  press 
of  suitors  to  the  gates  of  the  palace ;  and  those  gates  always 
stood  wide.  The  King  kept  open  house  every  day,  and  all 
day  long,  for  the  good  society  of  London,  the  extreme  Whigs 
only  excepted.  Hardly  any  gentleman  had  any  difficulty  in 
making  his  way  to  the  royal  presence.  The  levee  was  exactly 
what  the  word  imports.  Some  men  of  quality  came  every 
morning  to  stand  round  their  master,  to  chat  with  him  while 
his  wig  was  combed  and  his  cravat  tied,  and  to  accompany 


*  See  Sir  Roger  North's  account  of  the  way  in  which  Wright  was  made  a  judge, 
and  Clarendon's  account  of  the  way  in  which  Sir  George  Savile  was  made  a  peer. 

I.— 22 


338  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

him  in  his  early  walk  through  the  Park.  All  persons  who 
had  been  properly  introduced  might,  without  any  special  invi- 
tation, go  to  see  him  dine,  sup,  dance,  and  play  at  hazard,  and 
might  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him  tell  stories,  which,  in- 
deed, he  told  remarkably  well,  about  his  flight  from  "Worcester, 
and  about  the  misery  which  he  had  endured  when  he  was  a 
state  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  canting  meddling  preachers 
of  Scotland.  By-standers  whom  His  Majesty  recognized  often 
came  in  for  a  courteous  word.  This  proved  a  far  more  suc- 
cessful kingcraft  than  any  that  his  father  or  grandfather  had 
practised.  It  was  not  easy  for  the  most  austere  republican  of 
the  school  of  Marvel  to  resist  the  fascination  of  so  much 
good -humor  and  affability;  and  many  a  veteran  Cavalier, 
in  whose  heart  the  remembrance  of  unrequited  sacrifices 
and  services  had  been  festering  during  twenty  years,  was 
compensated  in  one  moment  for  wounds  and  sequestrations 
by  his  sovereign's  kind  nod,  and  "  God  bless  you,  my  old 
friend!" 

Whitehall  naturally  became  the  chief  staple  of  news.  -When- 
ever there  was  a  rumor  that  anything  important  had  happened 
or  was  about  to  happen,  people  hastened  thither  to  obtain  in- 
telligence from  the  fountain-head.  The  galleries  presented 
the  appearance  of  a  modern  club -room  at  an  anxious  time. 
They  were  full  of  people  inquiring  whether  the  Dutch  mail 
was  in,  what  tidings  the  express  from  France  had  brought, 
whether  John  Sobiesky  had  beaten  the  Turks,  whether  the 
Doge  of  Genoa  was  really  at  Paris.  These  were  matters 
about  which  it  was  safe  to  talk  aloud.  But  there  were  sub- 
jects concerning  which  information  was  asked  arid  given  in 
whispers.  Had  Halifax  got  the  better  of  Rochester?  Was 
there  to  be  a  Parliament?  Was  the  Duke  of  York  really 
going  to  Scotland  ?  Had  Monmouth  really  been  summoned 
from  the  Hague  ?  Men  tried  to  read  the  countenance  of  ev- 
ery minister  as  he  went  through  the  throng  to  and  from  the 
royal  closet.  All  sorts  of  auguries  were  drawn  from  the  tone 
in  which  His  Majesty  spoke  to  the  Lord  President,  or  from 
the  laugh  with  which  His  Majesty  honored  a  jest  of  the  Lord 
Privy  Seal ;  and  in  a  few  hours  the  hopes  and  fears  inspired 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  339 

by  such  slight  indications  had  spread  to  all  the  coffee-houses 
from  Saint  James's  to  the  Tower.* 

The  coffee-house  must  not  be  dismissed  with  a  cursory  men- 
tion. It  might  indeed  at  that  time  have  been  not  improperly 
The  coffee-  called  a  most  important  political  institution.  No 
Parliament  had  sat  for  years.  The  municipal  coun- 
cil of  the  City  had  ceased  to  speak  the  sense  of  the  citizens. 
Public  meetings,  harangues,  resolutions,  and  the  rest  of  the 
modern  machinery  of  agitation  had  not  yet  come  into  fash- 
ion. Nothing  resembling  the  modern  newspaper  existed. 
In  such  circumstances  the  coffee-houses  were  the  chief  organs 
through  which  the  public  opinion  of  the  metropolis  vented 
itself. 

The  first  of  these  establishments  had  been  set  up,  in  the 
time  of  the  Commonwealth,  by  a  Turkey  merchant,  who  had 
acquired  among  the  Mohammedans  a  taste  for  their  favorite 
beverage.  The  convenience  of  being  able  to  make  appoint- 
ments in  any  part  of  the  town,  and  of  being  able  to  pass  even- 
ings socially  at  a  very  small  charge,  was  so  great  that  the 
fashion  spread  fast.  Every  man  of  the  upper  or  middle  class 
went  daily  to  his  coffee-house  to  learn  the  news  and  to  discuss 
it.  Every  coffee-house  had  one  or  more  orators  to  whose  elo- 
quence the  crowd  listened  with  admiration,  and  who  soon  be- 
came, what  the  journalists  of  our  time  have  been  called,  a 
fourth  Estate  of  the  realm.  The  court  had  long  seen  with 
uneasiness  the  growth  of  this  new  power  in  the  state.  An 
attempt  had  been  made,  during  Danby's  administration,  to 
close  the  coffee-houses.  But  men  of  all  parties  missed  their 
usual  places  of  resort  so  much  that  there  was  a  universal 
outcry.  The  government  did  not  venture,  in  opposition  to  a 
feeling  so  strong  and  general,  to  enforce  a  regulation  of  which 
the  legality  might  well  be  questioned.  Since  that  time  ten 
years  had  elapsed,  and  during  those  years  the'  number  and 

*  The  sources  from  which  I  have  drawn  my  information  about  the  state  of  the 
court  are  too  numerous  to  recapitulate.  Among  them  are  the  Despatches  of  Baril- 
lon,  Van  Citters,  Ronquillo,  and  Adda,  the  Travels  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo,  the 
works  of  Roger  North,  the  Diaries  of  Pepys,  Evelyn,  and  Teonge,  and  the  Memoirs 
of  Grammont  and  Reresby. 


340  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  III. 

influence  of  the  coffee-houses  had  been  constantly  increasing. 
Foreigners  remarked  that  the  coffee-house  was  that  which 
especially  distinguished  London  from  all  other  cities;  that 
the  coffee-house  was  the  Londoner's  home,  and  that  those  who 
wished  to  find  a  gentleman  commonly  asked,  not  whether  he 
lived  in  Fleet  Street  or  Chancery  Lane,  but  whether  he  fre- 
quented the  Grecian  or  the  Rainbow.  Nobody  was  excluded 
from  these  places  who  laid  down  his  penny  at  the  bar.  Yet 
every  rank  and  profession,  and  every  shade  of  religious  and 
political  opinion,  had  its  own  head -quarters.  There  were 
houses  near  Saint  James's  Park  where  fops  congregated,  their 
heads  and  shoulders  covered  with  black  or  flaxen  wigs,  not 
less  ample  than  those  which  are  now  worn  by  the  Chancellor 
and  by  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  wig 
came  from  Paris ;  and  so  did  the  rest  of  the  fine  gentleman's 
ornaments,  his  embroidered  coat,  his  fringed  gloves,  and  the 
tassel  which  upheld  his  pantaloons.  The  conversation  was  in 
that  dialect  which,  long  after  it  had  ceased  to  be  spoken  in 
fashionable  circles,  continued,  in  the  mouth  of  Lord  Fopping- 
ton,  to  excite  the  mirth  of  theatres.*  The  atmosphere  was 
like  that  of  a  perfumer's  shop.  Tobacco  in  any  other  form 
than  that  of  richly  scented  snuff  was  held  in  abomination. 
If  any  clown,  ignorant  of  the  usages  of  the  house,  called  for  a 
pipe,  the  sneers  of  the  whole  assembly  and  the  short  answers 
of  the  waiters  soon  convinced  him  that  he  had  better  go  some- 
where else.  Nor,  indeed,  would  he  have  had  far  to  go.  For, 
in  general,  the  coffee-rooms  reeked  with  tobacco  like  a  guard- 
room; and  strangers  sometimes  expressed  their  surprise  that 
so  many  people  should  leave  their  own  firesides  to  sit  in  the 
midst  of  eternal  fog  and  stench.  Nowhere  was  the  smoking 
more  constant  than  at  Will's.  That  celebrated  house,  situated 
between  Covent  Garden  and  Bow  Street,  was  sacred  to  polite 
letters.  There  the  talk  was  about  poetical  justice  and  the 

*  The  chief  peculiarity  of  this  dialect  was  that,  in  a  large  class  of  words,  the 
0  was  pronounced  like  A.  Thus  Lord  was  pronounced  Lard.  See  Vanbrugh's 
Relapse.  Lord  Sunderland  was  a  great  master  of  this  court  tune,  as  Roger  North 
calls  it ;  and  Titus  Gates  affected  it  in  the  hope  of  passing  for  a  fine  gentleman. 
Examen,  77,  254. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  341 

unities  of  place  and  time.  There  was  a  faction  for  Perrault 
and  the  moderns,  a  faction  for  Boileau  and  the  ancients.  One 
group  debated  whether  Paradise  Lost  ought  not  to  have  been 
in  rhyme.  To  another  an  envious  poetaster  demonstrated 
that  Venice  Preserved  ought  to  have  been  hooted  from  the 
stage.  Under  no  roof  was  a  greater  variety  of  figures  to  be 
seen.  There  were  earls  in  stars  and  garters,  clergymen  in 
cassocks  and  bands,  pert  Templars,  sheepish  lads  from  the 
Universities,  translators  and  index-makers  in  ragged  coats  of 
frieze.  The  great  press  was  to  get  near  the  chair  where  John 
Dryden  sat.  In  winter  that  chair  was  always  in  the  warmest 
nook  by  the  fire ;  in  summer  it  stood  in  the  balcony.  To 
bow  to  the  Laureate,  and  to  hear  his  opinion  of  Racine's  last 
tragedy  or  of  Bossu's  treatise  on  epic  poetry,  was  thought  a 
privilege.  A  pinch  from  his  snuffbox  was  an  honor  sufficient 
to  turn  the  head  of  a  young  enthusiast.  There  were  coffee- 
houses where  the  first  medical  men  might  be  consulted.  Doc- 
tor John  Radcliffe,  who,  in  the  year  1685,  rose  to  the  largest 
practice  in  London,  came  daily,  at  the  hour  when  the  Exchange 
was  full,  from  his  house  in  Bow  Street,  then  a  fashionable 
part  of  the  capital,  to  Garraway's,  and  was  to  be  found,  sur- 
rounded by  surgeons  and  apothecaries,  at  a  particular  table. 
There  were  Puritan  coffee-houses  where  no  oath  was  heard, 
and  where  lank -haired  men  discussed  election  and  reproba- 
tion through  their  noses ;  Jew  coffee-houses  where  dark-eyed 
money-changers  from  Venice  and  from  Amsterdam  greeted 
each  other;  and  Popish  coffee-houses  where,  as  good  Protes- 
tants believed,  Jesuits  planned,  over  their  cups,  another  great 
fire,  and  cast  silver  bullets  to  shoot  the  King.* 

These  gregarious  habits  had  no  small  share  in  forming  the 
character  of  the  Londoner  of  that  age.     He  was  indeed,  a  dif- 


*  Lettres  sur  les  Anglois ;  Tom  Brown's  Tour ;  Ward's  London  Spy ;  The  Char- 
acter of  a  Coffee-house,  1673  ;  Rules  and  Orders  of  the  Coffee-house,  1674 ;  Coffee- 
houses Vindicated,  1675;  A  Satyr  against  Coffee;  North's  Examen,  138;  Life  of 
Guildford,  152 ;  Life  of  Sir  Dudley  North,  149 ;  Life  of  Dr.  Radcliffe,  published  by 
Curll  in  1715.  The  liveliest  description  of  Will's  is  in  the  City  and  Country  Mouse. 
There  is  a  remarkable  passage  about  the  influence  of  the  coffee-house  orators  in 
Halstead's  Succinct  Genealogies,  printed  in  1685. 


342  HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  HI. 

ferent  being  from  the  rustic  Englishman.  There  was  not 
then  the  intercourse  which  now  exists  between  the  two  classes. 
Only  very  great  men  were  in  the  habit  of  dividing  the  year 
between  town  and  country.  Few  esquires  came  to  the  capi- 
tal thrice  in  their  lives.  Nor  was  it  yet  the  practice  of  all 
citizens  in  easy  circumstances  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  the 
fields  and  woods  during  some  weeks  of  every  summer.  A 
cockney,  in  a  rural  village,  was  stared  at  as  much  as  if  he  had 
intruded  into  a  kraal  of  Hottentots.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  the  lord  of  a  Lincolnshire  or  Shropshire  manor  appeared 
in  Fleet  Street,  he  was  as  easily  distinguished  from  the  resi- 
dent population  as  a  Turk  or  a  Lascar.  His  dress,  his  gait, 
his  accent,  the  manner  in  which  he  gazed  at  the  shops,  stum- 
bled into  the  gutters,  ran  against  the  porters,  and  stood  under 
the  water-spouts,  marked  him  out  as  an  excellent  subject  for 
the  operations  of  swindlers  and  banterers.  Bullies  jostled 
him  into  the  kennel.  Hackney  coachmen  splashed  him  from 
head  to  foot.  Thieves  explored  with  perfect  security  the 
huge  pockets  of  his  horseman's  coat,  while  he  stood  entranced 
by  the  splendor  of  the  Lord  Mayor's  show.  Money-droppers, 
sore  from  the  cart's  tail,  introduced  themselves  to  him,  and 
appeared  to  him  the  most  honest  friendly  gentlemen  that  he 
had  ever  seen.  Painted  women,  the  refuse  of  Lewkner  Lane 
and  Whetstone  Park,  passed  themselves  on  him  for  countesses 
and  maids  of  honor.  If  he  asked  his  way  to  Saint  James's, 
his  informants  sent  him  to  Mile  End.  If  he  went  into  a  shop, 
he  was  instantly  discerned  to  be  a  fit  purchaser  of  every- 
thing that  nobody  else  would  buy,  of  second-hand  embroidery, 
copper  rings,  and  watches  that  would  not  go.  If  he  rambled 
into  any  fashionable  coffee-house,  he  became  a  mark  for  the 
insolent  derision  of  fops  and  the  grave  waggery  of  Templars. 
Enraged  and  mortified,  he  soon  returned  to  his  mansion,  and 
there,  in  the  homage  of  his  tenants  and  the  conversation  of 
his  boon-companions,  found  consolation  for  the  vexations  and 
humiliations  which  he  had  undergone.  There  he  was  once 
more  a  great  man,  and  saw  nothing  above  himself  except  when 
at  the  assizes  he  took  his  seat  on  the  bench  near  the  judge,  or 
when  at  the  muster  of  the  militia  lie  saluted  the  lord-lieutenant. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  343 

The  chief  cause  which  made  the  fusion  of  the  different 
elements  of  society  so  imperfect  was  the  extreme  difficulty 
Difficulty  of  which  our  ancestors  found  in  passing  from  place 
travelling.  to  p]ace  Qf  a^  inventions,  the  alphabet  and  the 
printing-press  alone  excepted,  those  inventions  which  abridge 
distance  have  done  most  for  the  civilization  of  our  species. 
Every  improvement  of  the  means  of  locomotion  benefits  man- 
kind morally  and  intellectually  as  well  as  materially,  and  not 
only  facilitates  the  interchange  of  the  various  productions  of 
nature  and  art,  but  tends  to  remove  national  and  provincial 
antipathies,  and  to  bind  together  all  the  branches  of  the  great 
human  family.  In  the  seventeenth  century  the  inhabitants 
of  London  were,  for  almost  every  practical  purpose,  farther 
from  Reading  than  they  now  are  from  Edinburgh,  and  far- 
ther from  Edinburgh  than  they  now  are  from  Yienna. 

The  subjects  of  Charles  the  Second  were  not,  it  is  true, 
quite  unacquainted  with  that  principle  which  has,  in  our  own 
time,  produced  an  unprecedented  revolution  in  human  affairs, 
which  has  enabled  navies  to  advance  in  face  of  wind  and  tide, 
and  brigades  of  troops,  attended  by  all  their  baggage  and  ar- 
tillery, to  traverse  kingdoms  at  a  pace  equal  to  that  of  the 
fleetest  race-horse.  The  Marquess  of  Worcester  had  recently 
observed  the  expansive  power  of  moisture  rarefied  by  heat. 
After  many  experiments  he  had  succeeded  in  constructing 
a  rude  steam-engine,  which  he  called  a  fire  water-work,  and 
which  he  pronounced  to  be  an  admirable  and  most  forcible 
instrument  of  propulsion.*  But  the  Marquess  was  suspected 
to  be  a  madman,  and  known  to  be  a  Papist.  His  inventions, 
therefore,  found  no  favorable  reception.  His  fire  water-work 
might,  perhaps,  furnish  matter  for  conversation  at  a  meeting 
of  the  Royal  Society,  but  'was  not  applied  to  any  practical 
purpose.  There  were  no  railways,  except  a  few  made  of 
timber,  on  which  coals  were  carried  from  the  mouths  of  the 
Northumbrian  pits  to  the  banks  of  the  Tyne.f  There  was 
very  little  internal  communication  by  water.  A  few  attempts 


*  Century  of  Inventions,  1663,  No.  68. 
f  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  136. 


344  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  Ill 

had  been  made  to  deepen  and  embank  the  natural  streams, 
but  with  slender  success.  Hardly  a  single  navigable  canal 
had  been  even  projected.  The  English  of  that  day  were  in 
the  habit  of  talking  with  mingled  admiration  and  despair 
of  the  immense  trench  by  which  Lewis  the  Fourteenth  had 
made  a  junction  between  the  Atlantic  and  the  Mediterranean. 
They  little  thought  that  their  country  would,  in  the  course  of 
a  few  generations,  be  intersected,  at  the  cost  of  private  advent- 
urers, by  artificial  rivers  making  up  more  than  four  times  the 
length  of  the  Thames,  the  Severn,  and  the  Trent  together. 

It  was  by  the  highways  that  both  travellers  and  goods  gen- 
erally passed  from  place  to  place ;  and  those  highways  ap- 
Badness  of  the  Pear  *°  have  been  far  worse  than  might  have  been 
roads.  expected  from  the  degree  of  wealth  and  civiliza- 

tion which  the  nation  had  even  then  attained.  On  the  best 
lines  of  communication  the  ruts  were  deep,  the  descents  pre- 
cipitous, and  the  way  often  such  as  it  w\as  hardly  possible  to 
distinguish,  in  the  dusk,  from  the  unenclosed  heath  and  fen 
which  lay  on  both  sides.  Ralph  Thoresby,  the  antiquary,  was 
in  danger  of  losing  his  way  on  the  great  North  road,  between 
Barnby  Moor  and  Tuxford,  and  actually  lost  his  way  between 
Doncaster  and  York.*  Pepys  and  his  wife,  travelling  in 
their  own  coach,  lost  their  way  between  Newbury  and  Read- 
ing. In  the  course  of  the  same  tour  they  lost  their  way  near 
Salisbury,  and  were  in  danger  of  having  to  pass  the  night 
on  the  plain. f  It  was  only  in  fine  weather  that  the  whole 
breadth  of  the  road  was  available  for  wheeled  vehicles.  Often 
the  mud  lay  deep  on  the  right  and  the  left ;  and  only  a  nar- 
row track  of  firm  ground  rose  above  the  quagmire.:}:  At  such 
times  obstructions  and  quarrels  were  frequent,  and  the  path 
was  sometimes  blocked  up  during  a  long  time  by  carriers,  nei- 
ther of  whom  would  break  the  way.  It  happened  almost 
every  day  that  coaches  stuck  fast,  until  a  team  of  cattle  could 
be  procured  from  some  neighboring  farm  to  tug  them  out  of 
the  slough.  But  in  bad  seasons  the  traveller  had  to  encoun- 

*  Thoresby's  Diary,  Oct.  21, 1680;  Aug.  3,  1712. 
f  Pepys's  Diary,  June  12  and  16, 1668. 
i  Ibid.,  Feb.  28,  1660. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  345 

ter  inconveniences  still  more  serious.  Thoresby,  who  was  in 
the  habit  of  travelling  between  Leeds  and  the  capital,  has  re- 
corded, in  his  Diary,  such  a  series  of  perils  and  disasters  as 
might  suffice  for  a  journey  to  the  Frozen  Ocean  or  to  the 
Desert  of  Sahara.  On  one  occasion  he  learned  that  the  floods 
were  out  between  Ware  and  London,  that  passengers  had  to 
swim  for  their  lives,  and  that  a  higgler  had  perished  in  the 
attempt  to  cross.  In  consequence  of  these  tidings  he  turned 
out  of  the  high-road,  and  was  conducted  across  some  mead- 
ows, where  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  ride  to  the  saddle- 
skirts  in  water.*  In  the  course  of  another  journey  he  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  swept  away  by  an  inundation  of  the 
Trent.  He  was  afterward  detained  at  Stamford  four  days,  on 
account  of  the  state  of  the  roads,  and  then  ventured  to  pro- 
ceed only  because  fourteen  members  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, who  were  going  up  in  a  body  to  Parliament  with  guides 
and  numerous  attendants,  took  him  into  their  company. f  On 
the  roads  of  Derbyshire,  travellers  were  in  constant  fear  for 
their  necks,  and  were  frequently  compelled  to  alight  and  lead 
their  beasts4  The  great  route  through  Wales  to  Holyhead 
was  in  such  a  state  that,  in  1685,  a  viceroy,  going  to  Ireland, 
was  live  hours  in  travelling  fourteen  miles,  from  Saint  Asaph 
to  Con  way.  Between  Con  way  and  Beaumaris  he  was  forced 
to  walk  great  part  of  the  way ;  and  his  lady  was  carried  in  a 
litter.  His  coach  was,  with  much  difficulty,  and  by  the  help 
of  man}7  hands,  brought  after  him  entire.  In  general,  car- 
riages were  taken  to  pieces  at  Conway,  and  borne,  on  the 
shoulders  of  stout  Welsh  peasants,  to  the  Menai  Straits. §  In 
some  parts  of  Kent  and  Sussex  none  but  the  strongest  horses 
could,  in  winter,  get  through  the  bog,  in  which,  at  every  step, 
they  sank  deep.  The  markets  were  often  inaccessible  during 
several  months.  It  is  said  that  the  fruits  of  the  earth  were 
sometimes  suffered  to  rot  in  one  place,  while  in  another  place, 
distant  only  a  few  miles,  the  supply  fell  far  short  of  the  de- 

*  Thoresby's  Diary,  May  17,  1695.  f  Ibid.,  Dec.  27,  1708. 

\  Tour  in  Derbyshire,  by  J.  Browne,  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  1662  ;  Cotton's 
Angler,  1676. 

§  Correspondence  of  Henry,  Earl  of  Clarendon,  Dec.  30,  1685  ;  Jan.  1, 1686. 


346  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

maml.  The  wheeled  carriages  were,  in  this  district,  generally 
pulled  by  oxen.*  When  Prince  George  of  Denmark  visited 
the  stately  mansion  of  Petworth  in  wet  weather,  he  was  six 
hours  in  going  nine  miles;  and  it  was  necessary  that  a  body 
of  sturdy  hinds  should  be  on  each  side  of  his  coach,  in  order 
to  prop  it.  Of  the  carnages  which  conveyed  his  retinue,  sev- 
eral were  upset  and  injured.  A  letter  from  one  of  the  party 
has  been  preserved,  in  which  the  unfortunate  courtier  com- 
plains that,  during  fourteen  hours,  he  never  once  alighted, 
except  when  his  coach  was  overturned  or  stuck  fast  in  the 
mud.f 

One  chief  cause  of  the  badness  of  the  roads  seems  to  have 
been  the  defective  state  of  the  law.  Every  parish  was  bound 
(to  repair  the  highways  which  passed  through  it.  The  peas- 
antry were  forced  to  give  their  gratuitous  labor  six  days  in  the 
year.  If  this  was  not  sufficient,  hired  labor  was  employed, 
and  the  expense  was  met  by  a  parochial  rate.  That  a  route 
connecting  two  great  towns,  which  have  a  large  and  thriving 
trade  with  each  other,  should  be  maintained  at  the  cost  of  the 
rural  population  scattered  between  them,  is  obviously  unjust ; 
and  this  injustice  was  peculiarly  glaring  in  the  case  of  the 
great  North  road,  which  traversed  very  poor  and  thinly  in- 
habited districts,  and  joined  very  rich  and  populous  districts. 
Indeed,  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  parishes  of  Hunting- 
donshire to  mend  a  highway  worn  by  the  constant  traffic 
between  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire  and  London.  Soon 
after  the  Restoration  this  grievance  attracted  the  notice  of 
Parliament ;  and  an  act,  the  first  of  our  many  turnpike  acts, 
was  passed,  imposing  a  small  toll  on  travellers  and  goods,  for 
the  purpose  of  keeping  some  parts  of  this  important  line  of 
communication  in  good  repair.:}:  This  innovation,  however, 
excited  many  murmurs ;  and  the  other  great  avenues  to  the 
capital  were  long  left  under  the  old  system.  A  change  was 
at  length  affected,  but  not  without  much  difficulty.  For  un- 
just and  absurd  taxation  to  which  men  are  accustomed  is 

*  Postlethwaite's  Dictionary,  Roads ;  History  of  Hawkhurst,  in  the  Bibliotheca 
Topographica  Britannica. 

f  Annals  of  Queen  Anne,  1703,  Appendix,  No.  J3.  J  15  Car.  II.,  c.  1. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  347 

often  borne  far  more  willingly  than  the  most  reasonable  im- 
post which  is  new.  It  was  not  till  many  toll-bars  had  been 
violently  pulled  down,  till  the  troops  had  in  many  districts 
been  forced  to  act  against  the  people,  and  till  much  blood  had 
been  shed,  that  a  good  system  was  introduced.*  By  slow  de- 
grees reason  triumphed  over  prejudice ;  and  our  island  is  now 
crossed  in  every  direction  by  near  thirty  thousand  miles  of 
turnpike  road. 

On  the  best  highways  heavy  articles  were,  in  the  time  of 
Charles  the  Second,  generally  conveyed  from  place  to  place 
by  stage  -  wagons.  In  the  straw  of  these  vehicles  nestled  a 
crowd  of  passengers,  who  could  not  afford  to  travel  by  coach 
or  on  horseback,  and  who  were  prevented  by  infirmity,  or  by 
the  weight  of  their  luggage,  from  going  on  foot.  The  expense 
of  transmitting  heavy  goods  in  this  way  was  enormous.  From 
London  to  Birmingham  the  charge  was  seven  pounds  a  ton ; 
from  London  to  Exeter,  twelve  pounds  a  ton.f  This  was  about 
fifteen  pence  a  ton  for  every  mile,  more  by  a  third  than  was 
afterward  charged  on  turnpike  roads,  and  fifteen  times  what 
is  now  demanded  by  railway  companies.  The  cost  of  convey- 
ance amounted  to  a  prohibitory  tax  on  many  useful  articles. 
Coal  in  particular  was  never  seen  except  in  the  districts  where 
it  was  produced,  or  in  the  districts  to  which  it  could  be  car- 
ried by  sea,  and  was,  indeed,  always  known  in  the  south  of 
England  by  the  name  of  sea-coal. 

On  by-roads,  and  generally  throughout  the  country  north 
of  York  and  west  of  Exeter,  goods  were  carried  by  long 
trains  of  pack-horses.  These  strong  and  patient  beasts,  the 
breed  of  which  is  now  extinct,  were  attended  by  a  class  of 
men  who  seem  to  have  borne  much  resemblance  to  the  Span- 
ish muleteers.  A  traveller  of  humble  condition  often  found 
it  convenient  to  perform  a  journey  mounted  on  a  pack-saddle 
between  two  baskets,  under  the  care  of  these  hardy  guides. 
The  expense  of  this  mode  of  conveyance  was  small.  But  the 

*  The  evils  of  the  old  system  are  strikingly  set  forth  in  many  petitions  which 
appear  in  the  Commons'  Journal  of  172^.  How  fierce  an  opposition  was  offered 
to  the  new  system  may  be  learned  from  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  1749. 

f  Postlethwaite's  Diet.,  Roads. 


348  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

caravan  moved  at  a  foot's  pace ;  and  in  winter  the  cold  was 
often  insupportable.* 

The  rich  commonly  travelled  in  their  own  carriages,  with 
at  least  four  horses.  Cotton,  the  facetious  poet,  attempted  to 
go  from  London  to  the  Peak  with  a  single  pair,  but  found  at 
Saint  Albans  that  the  journey  would  be  insupportably  tedious, 
and  altered  his  plan.f  A  coach  and  six  is  in  our  time  never 
seen,  except  as  part  of  some  pageant.  The  frequent  mention, 
therefore,  of  such  equipages  in  old  books  is  likely  to  mislead 
us.  We  attribute  to  magnificence  what  was  really  the  effect 
of  a  very  disagreeable  necessity.  People,  in  the  time  of  Charles 
the  Second,  travelled  with  six  horses,  because  with  a  smaller 
number  there  was  great  danger  of  sticking  fast  in  the  mire. 
Nor  were  even  six  horses  always  sufficient.  Yanbrugh,  in  the 
succeeding  generation,  described  with  great  humor  the  way  in 
which  a  country  gentleman,  newly  chosen  a  Member  of  Par- 
liament, went  up  to  London.  On  that  occasion  all  the  exer- 
tions of  six  beasts,  two  of  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
plough,  could  not  save  the  family  coach  from  being  imbedded 
in  a  quagmire. 

Public  carriages  had  recently  been  much  improved.  Dur- 
ing the  years  which  immediately  followed  the  Restoration,  a 
diligence  ran  between  London  and  Oxford  in  two 

Stage-coaches.  _ 

days.  The  passengers  slept  at  Jrteaconsneld.  At 
length,  in  the  spring  of  1669,  a  great  and  daring  innovation 
was  attempted.  It  was  announced  that  a  vehicle,  described 
as  the  Flying  Coach,  would  perform  the  whole  journey  be- 
tween sunrise  and  sunset.  This  spirited  undertaking  was 
solemnly  considered  and  sanctioned  by  the  heads  of  the  Uni- 
versity, and  appears  to  have  excited  the  same  sort  of  interest 
which  is  excited  in  our  own  time  by  the  opening  of  a  new 
railway.  The  Vice-chancellor,  by  a  notice  affixed  in  all  pub- 
lic places,  prescribed  the  hour  and  place  of  departure.  The 
success  of  the  experiment  was  complete.  At  six  in  the  morn- 
ing the  carriage  began  to  move  from  before  the  ancient  front 

*  Loidis  and  Elmete;  Marshall's  Rural  Economy  of  England.     In  1739  Roderic 
Random  came  from  Scotland  to  Newcastle  on  a  pack-horse, 
f  Cotton's  Epistle  to  J.  Bradshaw. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  349 

of  All  Souls  College ;  and  at  seven  in  the  evening  the  advent- 
urous gentlemen  who  had  run  the  first  risk  were  safely  depos- 
ited at  their  inn  in  London.*  The  emulation  of  the  sister 
University  was  moved ;  and  soon  a  diligence  was  set  up  which 
in  one  day  carried  passengers  from  Cambridge  to  the  capital. 
At  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  flying  car- 
riages ran  thrice  a  week  from  London  to  the  chief  towns. 
But  no  stage-coach,  indeed  no  stage-wagon,  appears  to  have 
proceeded  farther  north  than  York,  or  farther  west  than  Exe- 
ter. The  ordinary  day's  journey  of  a  flying  coach  was  about 
fifty  miles  in  the  summer ;  but  in  winter,  when  the  ways  were 
bad  and  the  nights  long,  little  more  than  thirty.  The  Chester 
coach,  the  York  coach,  and  the  Exeter  coach  generally  reached 
London  in  four  days  during  the  fine  season,  but  at  Christmas 
not  till  the  sixth  day.  The  passengers,  six  in  number,  were 
all  seated  in  the  carriage.  For  accidents  were  so  frequent 
that  it  would  have  been  most  perilous  to  mount  the  roof. 
The  ordinary  fare  was  about  twopence-half-penny  a  mile  in 
summer,  and  somewhat  more  in  winter.f 

This  mode  of  travelling,  which  by  Englishmen  of  the  pres- 
ent day  would  be  regarded  as  insufferably  slow,  ssemed  to  our 
ancestors  wonderfully  and  indeed  alarmingly  rapid.  In  a 
work  published  a  few  months  before  the  death  of  Charles  the 
Second,  the  flying  coaches  are  extolled  as  far  superior  to  any 
similar  vehicles  ever  known  in  the  world.  Their  velocity 
is  the  subject  of  special  commendation,  and  is  triumphantly 
contrasted  with  the  sluggish  pace  of  the  continental  posts. 
But  with  boasts  like  these  wras  mingled  the  sound  of  com- 
plaint and  invective.  The  interests  of  large  classes  had  been 
unfavorably  affected  by  the  establishment  of  the  new  dili- 
gences ;  and,  as  usual,  many  persons  were,  from  mere  stupidity 
and  obstinacy,  disposed  to  clamor  against  the  innovation,  sim- 
ply because  it  was  an  innovation.  It  was  vehemently  argued 
that  this  mode  of  conveyance  would  be  fatal  to  the  breed  of 
horses  and  to  the  noble  art  of  horsemanship ;  that  the  Thames, 

*  Anthony  a  Wood's  Life  of  himself. 

f  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684.  See  also  the  list  of  stage-coaches 
and  wagons  at  the  end  of  the  book,  entitled  Anglise  Metropolis,  1690. 


350  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  Ill 

which  had  long  been  an  important  nursery  of  seamen,  would 
cease  to  be  the  chief  thoroughfare  from  London  up  to  Wind- 
sor and  down  to  Gravesend;  that  saddlers  and  spurriers 
would  be  ruined  by  hundreds ;  that  numerous  inns,  at  which 
mounted  travellers  had  been  in  the  habit  of  stopping,  would 
be  deserted,  and  'would  no  longer  pay  any  rent ;  that  the  new 
carriages  were  too  hot  in  summer  and  too  cold  in  winter; 
that  the  passengers  were  grievously  annoyed  by  invalids  and 
crying  children ;  that  the  coach  sometimes  reached  the  inn 
so  late  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  supper,  and  sometimes 
started  so  early  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  breakfast.  On 
these  grounds  it  was  gravely  recommended  that  no  public 
coach  should  be  permitted  to  have  more  than  four  horses,  to 
start  oftener  than  once  a  week,  or  to  go  more  than  thirty 
miles  a  day.  It  was  hoped  that,  if  this  regulation  were 
adopted,  all  except  the  sick  and  the  lame  would  return  to  the 
old  mode  of  travelling.  Petitions  embodying  such  opinions 
as  these  were  presented  to  the  King  in  council  from  several 
companies  of  the  city  of  London,  from  several  provincial 
towns,  and  from  the  justices  of  several  counties.  We  smile  at 
these  things.  It  is  not  impossible  that  our  descendants,  when 
they  read  the  history  of  the  opposition  offered  by  cupidity 
and  prejudice  to  the  improvements  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, may  smile  in  their  turn.* 

In  spite  of  the  attractions  of  the  flying  coaches,  it  was  still 
usual  for  men  who  enjoyed  health  and  vigor,  and  who  were 
not  encumbered  by  much  baggage,  to  perform  long  journeys 
on  horseback.  If  the  traveller  wished  to  move  expeditiously, 
he  rode  post.  Fresh  saddle-horses  and  guides  were  to  be  pro- 
cured at  convenient  distances  along  all  the  great  lines  of  road. 
The  charge  was  threepence  a  mile  for  each  horse,  and  four- 
pence  a  stage  for  the  guide.  In  this  manner,  when  the  ways 
were  good,  it  was  possible  to  travel,  for  a  considerable  time, 
as  rapidly  as  by  any  conveyance  kriown  in  England,  till  vehi- 

*  John  Cresset's  Reasons  for  suppressing  Stage-coaches,  1672.  These  reasons 
were  afterward  inserted  in  a  tract,  entitled  "  The  Grand  Concern  of  England  ex- 
plained, 1673."  Cresset's  attack  on  stage-coaches  called  forth  some  answers 
which  I  have  consulted. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  351 

cles  were  propelled  by  steam.  There  were  as  yet  no  post- 
chaises  ;  nor  could  those  who  rode  in  their  own  coaches  ordi- 
narily procure  a  change  of  horses.  The  King,  however,  and 
the  great  officers  of  state  were  able  to  command  relays.  Thus 
Charles  commonly  went  in  one  day  from  Whitehall  to  New- 
market, a  distance  of  about  fifty-five  miles,  through  a  level 
country;  and  this  was  thought  by  his  subjects  a  proof  of 
great  activity.  Evelyn  performed  the  same  journey  in  com- 
pany with  the  Lord  Treasurer  Clifford.  The  coach  was 
drawn  by  six  horses,  which  were  changed  at  Bishop  Stortford, 
and  again  at  Chesterford.  The  travellers  reached  Newmarket 
at  night.  Such  a  mode  of  conveyance  seems  to  have  been  con- 
sidered as  a  rare  luxury,  confined  to  princes  and  ministers.* 

Whatever  might  be  the  way  in  which  a  journey  was  per- 
formed, the  travellers,  unless  they  were  numerous  and  well 
armed,  ran  considerable  risk  of  being  stopped  and 

Highwaymen. 

plundered.  The  mounted  highwayman,  a  marauder 
known  to  our  generation  only  from  books,  was  to  be  found  on 
every  main  road.  The  waste  tracts  which  lay  on  the  great 
routes  near  London  were  especially  haunted  by  plunderers  of 
this  class.  Hounslow  Heath,  on  the  great  Western  road,  and 
Finchley  Common,  on  the  great  Northern  road,  were  perhaps 
the  most  celebrated  of  these  spots.  The  Cambridge  scholars 
trembled  when  they  approached  Epping  Forest,  even  in  broad 
daylight.  Seamen  who  had  just  been  paid  off  at  Chatham 
were  often  compelled  to  deliver  their  purses  on  Gadshill,  cele- 
brated near  a  hundred  years  earlier  by  the  greatest  of  poets 
as  the  scene  of  the  depredations  of  Falstaff.  The  public  au- 
thorities seem  to  have  been  often  at  a  loss  how  to  deal  with 
the  plunderers.  At  one  time  it  was  announced  in  the  Gazette 
that  several  persons,  who  were  strongly  suspected  of  being 
highwaymen,  but  against  whom  there  was  not  sufficient  evi- 
dence, would  be  paraded  at  Newgate  in  riding-dresses :  their 
horses  would  also  be  shown ;  and  all  gentlemen  who  had  been 
robbed  were  invited  to  inspect  this  singular  exhibition.  On 

*  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684.      North's  Examcn,  105 ;   Evelyn's 
Diary,  Oct.  9,  10,  1671. 


352  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

another  occasion  a  pardon  was  publicly  offered  to  a  robber  if 
he  would  give  up  some  rough  diamonds  of  immense  value, 
which  he  had  taken  when  he  stopped  the  Harwich  mail.  A 
short  time  after  appeared  another  proclamation,  warning  the 
innkeepers  that  the  eye  of  the  government  was  upon  them. 
Their  criminal  connivance,  it  was  affirmed,  enabled  banditti 
to  infest  the  roads  with  impunity.  That  these  suspicions 
were  not  without  foundation,  is  proved  by  the  dying  speeches 
of  some  penitent  robbers  of  that  age,  who  appear  to  have  re- 
ceived from  the  innkeepers  services  much  resembling  those 
which  Farquhar's  Boniface  rendered  to  Gibbet.* 

It  was  necessary  to  the  success  and  even  to  the  safety  of 
the  highwayman  that  he  should  be  a  bold  and  skilful  rider, 
and  that  his  manners  and  appearance  should  be  such  as  suited 
the  master  of  a  fine  horse.  He  therefore  held  an  aristocrati- 
cal  position  in  the  community  of  thieves,  appeared  at  fashion- 
able coffee-houses  and  gaming-houses,  and  betted  with  men 
of  quality  on  the  race-ground.f  Sometimes,  indeed,  he  was 
a  man  of  good  family  and  education.  A  romantic  interest, 
therefore,  attached,  and  perhaps  still  attaches,  to  the  names  of 
freebooters  of  this  class.  The  vulgar  eagerly  drank  in  tales 
of  their  ferocity  and  audacity,  of  their  occasional  acts  of  gen- 
erosity and  good-nature,  of  their  amours,  of  their  miraculous 
escapes,  of  their  desperate  struggles,  and  of  their  manly  bear- 
ing at  the  bar  and  in  the  cart.  Thus  it  was  related  of  Wil- 
liam Nevison,  the  great  robber  of  Yorkshire,  that  he  levied  a 
quarterly  tribute  on  all  the  northern  drovers,  and,  in  return, 
not  only  spared  them  himself,  but  protected  them  against  all 
other  thieves ;  that  he  demanded  purses  in  the  most  courteous 
manner ;  that  he  gave  largely  to  the  poor  what  he  had  taken 
from  the  rich ;  that  his  life  was  once  spared  by  the  royal 
clemency,  but  that  he  again  tempted  his  fate,  and  at  length 

*  See  the  London  Gazette,  May  H,  1677;  August  4,  1687;  Dec.  6,  1687.  The 
last  confession  of  Augustin  King,  who  was  the  son  of  an  eminent  divine,  and  had 
been  educated  at  Cambridge,  but  was  hanged  at  Colchester  in  March,  1688,  is 
highly  curious. 

f  "Aimwell.  Pray,  sir,  han't  I  seen  your  face  at  Will's  coffee-house  ?" 

"  Gibbet.  Yes,  sir,  and  at  White's  too." — Beaux  Stratagem. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  353 

died,  in  1685,  on  the  gallows  of  York.*  It  was  related  how 
Claude  Duval,  the  French  page  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond, 
took  to  the  road,  became  captain  of  a  formidable  gang,  and 
had  the  honor  to  be  named  first  in  a  royal  proclamation  against 
notorious  offenders ;  how  at  the  head  of  his  troop  he  stopped 
a  lady's  coach,  in  which  there  was  a  booty  of  four  hundred 
pounds;  how  he  took  only  one  hundred,  and  suffered  the  fair 
owner  to  ransom  the  rest  by  dancing  a  coranto  with  him  on 
the  heath ;  how  his  vivacious  gallantry  stole  away  the  hearts 
of  all  women ;  how  his  dexterity  at  sword  and  pistol  made 
him  a  terror  to  all  men ;  how,  at  length,  in  the  year  1670,  he 
was  seized  when  overcome  by  wine  ;  how  dames  of  high  rank 
visited  him  in  prison,  and  with  tears  interceded  for  his  life ; 
how  the  King  would  have  granted  a  pardon,  but  for  the  in- 
terference of  Judge  Morton,  the  terror  of  highwaymen,  who 
threatened  to  resign  his  office  unless  the  law  were  carried  into 
full  effect ;  and  how,  after  the  execution,  the  corpse  lay  in 
state  with  all  the  pomp  of  scutcheons,  wax-lights,  black  hang- 
ings and  mutes,  till  the  same  cruel  judge,  who  had  intercepted 
the  mercy  of  the  crown,  sent  officers  to  disturb  the  obsequies,  f 
In  these  anecdotes  there  is  doubtless  a  large  mixture  of  fable ; 
but  they  are  not  on  that  account  unworthy  of  being  recorded ; 
for  it  is  both  an  authentic  and  an  important  fact  that  such 
tales,  whether  false  or  true,  were  heard  by  our  ancestors  with 
eagerness  and  faith. 

All  the  various  dangers  by  which  the  traveller  was  beset 
were  greatly  increased  by  darkness.     He  was  therefore  com- 
monly desirous  of  having  the  shelter  of  a  roof  dur- 
ing the  night ;  and  such  shelter  it  was  not  difficult 
to  obtain.     From,  a  very  early  period  the  inns  of  England  had 

*  Gent's  History  of  York.     Another  marauder  of  the  same  description,  named 
Biss,  was  hanged  at  Salisbury  in  1695.     In  a  ballad  which  is  in  the  Pepysian  Li- 
brary, he  is  represented  as  defending  himself  thus  before  the  judge : 
"  What  say  you  now,  my  honored  Lord, 
What  harm  was  there  in  this  ? 
Rich,  wealthy  misers  were  abhorred 
By  brave,  free-hearted  Biss." 

f  Pope's  Memoirs  of  Duval,  published  immediately  after  the  execution.     Oates's 
Elicwv  (3aai\iKri,  Part  I. 

I.— 23 


354  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

been  renowned.  Our  first  great  poet  had  described  the  ex- 
cellent accommodation  which  they  afforded  to  the  pilgrims  of 
the  fourteenth  century.  Nine-and-twenty  persons,  with  their 
horses,  found  room  in  the  wide  chambers  and  stables  of  the 
Tabard  in  Southwark.  The  food  was  of  the  best,  and  the 
wines  such  as  drew  the  company  on  to  drink  largely.  Two 
hundred  years  later,  under  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  William 
Harrison  gave  a  lively  description  of  the  plenty  and  comfort 
of  the  great  'hostleries.  The  Continent  of  Europe,  he  said, 
could  show  nothing  like  them.  There  were  some  in  which 
two  or  three  hundred  people,  with  their  horses,  could  with- 
out difficulty  be  lodged  and  fed.  The  bedding,  the  tapestry, 
above  all,  the  abundance  of  clean  and  fine  linen  was  matter  of 
wonder.  Valuable  plate  was  often  set  on  the  tables.  Nay, 
there  were  signs  which  had  cost  thirty  or  forty  pounds.  In 
the  seventeenth  century  England  abounded  with  excellent  inns 
of  every  rank.  The  traveller  sometimes,  in  a  small  village, 
lighted  on  a  public-house  such  as  Walton  has  described,  where 
the  brick  floor  was  swept  clean,  where  the  walls  were  stuck 
round  with  ballads,  where  the  sheets  smelled  of  lavender,  and 
where  a  blazing  fire,  a  cup  of  good  ale,  and  a  dish  of  trouts 
fresh  from  the  neighboring  brook,  were  to  be  procured  at 
small  charge.  At  the  larger  houses  of  entertainment  were  to 
be  found  beds  hung  with  silk,  choice  cookery,  and  claret  equal 
to  the  best  which  was  drunk  in  London.*  The  innkeepers 
too,  it  was  said,  were  not  like  other  innkeepers.  On  the  Con- 
tinent the  landlord  was  the  tyrant  of  those  who  crossed  the 
threshold.  In  England  he  was  a  servant.  Never  was  an.  Eng- 
lishman more  at  home  than  when  he  took  his  ease  in  his  inn. 
Even  men  of  fortune,  who  might  in  their  own  mansions  have 
enjoyed  every  luxury,  were  often  in  the  habit  of  passing  their 
evenings  in  the  parlor  of  some  neighboring  house  of  public 
entertainment.  They  seem  to  have  thought  that  comfort  and 
freedom  could  in  no  other  place  be  enjoyed  in  equal  perfec- 

*  See  the  prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  Harrison's  Historical  Description  of 
the  Island  of  Great  Britain,  and  Pepys's  account  of  his  tour  in  the  summer  of 
1668.  The  excellence  of  the  English  inns  is  noticed  in  the  travels  of  the  Grand 
Duke  Cosmo. 


CH.  IU.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  355 

tion.  This  feeling  continued  during  many  generations  to  be 
a  national  peculiarity.  The  liberty  and  jollity  of  inns  long 
furnished  matter  to  our  novelists  and  dramatists.  Johnson 
declared  that  a  tavern  chair  was  the  throne  of  human  felicity ; 
and  Shenstone  gently  complained  that  no  private  roof,  how- 
ever friendly,  gave  the  wanderer  so  warm  a  welcome  as  that 
which  was  to  be  found  at  an  inn. 

Many  conveniences,  which  were  unknown  at  Hampton 
Court  and  Whitehall  in  the  seventeenth  century,  are  in  all 
modern  hotels.  Yet  on  the  whole  it  is  certain  that  the  im- 
provement of  our  houses  of  public  entertainment  has  by  no 
means  kept  pace  with  the  improvement  of  our  roads  and  of 
our  conveyances.  Nor  is  this  strange ;  for  it  is  evident  that, 
all  other  circumstances  being  supposed  equal,  the  inns  will  be 
best  where  the  means  of  locomotion  are  worst.  The  quicker 
the  rate  of  travelling,  the  less  important  is  it  that  there  should 
be  numerous  agreeable  resting-places  for  the  traveller.  A 
hundred  and  sixty  years  ago  a  person  who  came  up  to  the 
capital  from  a  remote  county  generally  required,  by  the  way, 
twelve  or  fifteen  meals,  and  lodging  for  five  or  six  nights. 
If  he  were  a  great  man,  he  expected  the  meals  and  lodging 
to  be  comfortable,  and  even  luxurious.  At  present  we  fly 
from  York  or  Exeter  to  London  by  the  light  of  a  single  win- 
ter's day.  At  present,  therefore,  a  traveller  seldom  interrupts 
his  journey  merely  for  the  sake  of  rest  and  refreshment.  The 
consequence  is  that  hundreds  of  excellent  inns  have  fallen 
into  utter  decay.  In  a  short  time  no  good  houses  of  that 
description  will  be  found,  except  at  places  where  strangers 
are  likely  to  be  detained  by  business  or  pleasure. 

The  mode  in  which  correspondence  was  carried  on  between 

distant  places  may  excite  the  scorn  of  the  present  generation ; 

yet  it  was  such  as  might  have  moved  the  admira- 

Tost-office.          J ,  *     i        T  •  i-  •       • 

tion  and  envy  ot  the  polished  nations  or  antiquity, 
or  of  the  contemporaries  of  Raleigh  and  Cecil.  A  rude  and 
imperfect  establishment  of  posts  for  the  conveyance  of  letters 
had  been  set  up  by  Charles  the  First,  and  had  been  swept 
away  by  the  civil  war.  Under  the  Commonwealth  the  design 
was  resumed.  At  the  Eestoration  the  proceeds  of  the  Post- 


356  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

office,  after  all  expenses  had  been  paid,  were  settled  on  the 
Duke  of  York.  On  most  lines  of  road  the  mails  went  out  and 
came  in  only  on  the  alternate  days.  In  Cornwall,  in  the  fens 
of  Lincolnshire,  and  among  the  hills  and  lakes  of  Cumber- 
land, letters  were  received  only  once  a  week.  During  a  royal 
progress  a  daily  post  was  despatched  from  the  capital  to  the 
place  where  the  court  sojourned.  There  was  also  daily  com- 
munication between  London  and  the  Downs ;  and  the  same 
privilege  was  sometimes  extended  to  Tunbridge  Wells  and 
Bath  at  the  seasons  when  those  places  were  crowded  by  the 
great.  The  bags  were  carried  on  horseback  day  and  night  at 
the  rate  of  about  five  miles  an  hour.* 

The  revenue  of  this  establishment  was  not  derived  solely 
from  the  charge  for  the  transmission  of  letters.  The  Post- 
office  alone  was  entitled  to  furnish  post-horses ;  and,  from  the 
care  with  which  this  monopoly  was  guarded,  we  may  infer 
that  it  was  found  profitable.f  If,  indeed,  a  traveller  had 
waited  half  an  hour  without  being  supplied,  he  might  hire 
a  horse  wherever  he  could. 

To  facilitate  correspondence  between  one  pail  of  London 
and  another  was  not  originally  one  of  the  objects  of  the  Post- 
office.  But,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  an  enterpris- 
ing citizen  of  London,  "William  Dockwray,  set  up,  at  great 
expense,  a  penny-post,  which  delivered  letters  and  parcels  six 
or  eight  times  a  day  in  the  busy  and  crowded  streets  near  the 
Exchange,  and  four  times  a  day  in  the  outskirts  of  the  capital. 
This  improvement  was,  as  usual,  strenuously  resisted.  The 
porters  complained  that  their  interests  were  attacked,  and  tore 
down  the  placards  in  which  the  scheme  was  announced  to  the 
public.  The  excitement  caused  by  Godfrey's  death,  and  by 
the  discovery  of  Coleman's  papers,  was  then  at  the  height. 
A  cry  was  therefore  raised  that  the  penny-post  was  a  Popish 
contrivance.  The  great  Doctor  Gates,  it  was  affirmed,  had 
hinted  a  suspicion  that  the  Jesuits  were  at  the  bottom  of  the 
scheme,  and  that  the  bags,  if  examined,  would  be  found  full 

*  Stat.  12  Car.  II.,  c.  35;  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  1684  ;  Angliae  Me- 
tropolis, 1690;  London  Gazette,  June  22,  1685  ;  August  15,  1687. 
f  London  Gazette,  Sept.  14, 1685. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  357 

of  treason.*  The  utility  of  the  enterprise  was,  however,  so 
great  and  obvious  that  all  opposition  proved  fruitless.  As 
soon  as  it  became  clear  that  the  speculation  would  be  lucra- 
tive, the  Duke  of  York  complained  of  it  as  an  infraction  of 
his  monopoly ;  and  the  courts  of  law  decided  in  his  favor,  f  V-v 

The  revenue  of  the  Post-office  was  from  the  first  constantly 
increasing.  In  the  year  of  the  Restoration  a  committee  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  after  strict  inquiry,  had  estimated 
the  net  receipt  at  about  twenty  thousand  pounds.  At  the 
close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  the  net  receipt  was 
little  short  of  fifty  thousand  pounds ;  and  this  was  then  thought 
a  stupendous  sum.  The  gross  receipt  was  about  seventy  thou- 
sand pounds.  The  charge  for  conveying  a  single  letter  was 
twopence  for  eighty  miles,  and  threepence  for  a  longer  dis- 
tance. The  postage  increased  in  proportion  to  the  weight  of 
the  packet. £  At  present  a  single  letter  is  carried  to  the  ex- 
tremity of  Scotland  or  of  Ireland  for  a  penny ;  and  the  mo- 
nopoly of  post-horses  has  long  ceased  to  exist.  Yet  the  gross 
annual  receipts  of  the  department  amount  to  more  than  eigh- 
teen hundred  thousand  pounds,  and  the  net  receipts  to  more 
than  seven  hundred  thousand  pounds.  It  is,  therefore,  scarcely 
possible  to  doubt  that  the  number  of  letters  now  conveyed  by 
mail  is  seventy  times  the  number  which  was  so  conveyed  at 
the  time  of  the  accession  of  James  the  Second.§ 

No  part  of  the  load  which  the  old  mails  carried  out  was 

more  important  than  the  news-letters.     In  1685  nothing  like 

the  London   daily  paper  of  our  time   existed,  or 

could  exist.     Neither  the  necessary  capital  nor  the 

necessary  skill  was  to  be  found.     Freedom,  too,  was  wanting, 

a  want  as  fatal  as  that  of  either  capital  or  skill.     The  press 

was  not  indeed  at  that  moment  under  a  general  censorship. 


*  Smith's  Current  Intelligence,  March  30,  and  April  3,  1680. 

f  Angliae  Metropolis,  1690. 

\  Commons'  Journals,  Sept.  4,  1660,  March  1,  168| ;  Chamberlayne,  1684  ;  Da- 
vcnant  on  the  Public  Revenue,  Discourse  IV. 

§  I  have  left  the  text  as  it  stood  in  1848.  In  the  year  1856  the  gross  receipt 
of  the  Post-office  was  more  than  2,800,000?.;  and  the  net  receipt  was  about 
1,200,000/.  The  number  of  letters  conveyed  by  post  was  478,000,000  (1857). 


358  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

The  licensing  act>  which  had  been  passed  soon  after  the  Res- 
toration, had  expired  in  1679.  Any  person  might,  therefore, 
print  at  his  own  risk  a  history,  a  sermon,  or  a  poem,  with- 
out the  previous  approbation  of  any  officer;  but  the  judges 
were  unanimously  of  opinion  that  this  liberty  did  not  extend 
to  Gazettes,  and  that,  by  the  common  law  of  England,  no 
man,  not  authorized  by  the  crown,  had  a  right  to  publish 
political  news.*  While  the  Whig  party  was  still  formidable, 
the  government  thought  it  expedient  occasionally  to  connive 
at  the  violation  of  this  rule.  During  the  great  battle  of  the 
Exclusion  Bill,  many  newspapers  were  suffered  to  appear — the 
Protestant  Intelligence,  the  Current  Intelligence,  the  Domes- 
tic Intelligence,  the  True  News,  the  London  Mercury,  f  None 
of  these  was  published  oftener  than  twice  a  week.  None 
exceeded  in  size  a  single  small  leaf.  The  quantity  of  matter 
which  one  of  them  contained  in  a  year  was  not  more  than  is 
often  found  in  two  numbers  of  the  Times.  After  the  defeat 
of  the  Whigs  it  was  no  longer  necessary  for  the  King  to  be 
sparing  in  the  use  of  that  which  all  his  judges  had  pronounced 
to  be  his  undoubted  prerogative.  At  the  close  of  his  reign 
no  newspaper  was  suffered  to  appear  without  his  allowance ; 
and  his  allowance  was  given  exclusively  to  the  London  Ga- 
zette. The  London  Gazette  came  out  only  on  Mondays  and 
Thursdays.  The  contents  generally  were  a  royal  proclama- 
tion, two  or  three  Tory  addresses,  notices  of  two  or  three  pro- 
motions, an  account  of  a  skirmish  between  the  imperial  troops 
and  the  Janizaries  on  the  Danube,  a  description  of  a  high- 
wayman, an  announcement  of  a  grand  cock-fight  between  two 
persons  of  honor,  and  an  advertisement  offering  a  reward  for 
a  strayed  dog.  The  whole  made  up  two  pages  of  moderate 
size.  Whatever  was  communicated  respecting  matters  of  the 
highest  moment  was  communicated  in  the  most  meagre  and 
formal  style.  Sometimes,  indeed,  when  the  government  was 
disposed  to  gratify  the  public  curiosity  respecting  an  impor- 
tant transaction,  a  broadside  was  put  forth  giving  fuller  details 

*  London  Gazette,  May  5,  and  17,  1680. 

f  There  is  a  very  curious,  and,  I  should  think,  unique  collection  of  these  papers 
in  the  British  Museum. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  359 

than  could  be  found  in  the  Gazette ;  but  neither  the  Gazette 
nor  any  supplementary  broadside  printed  by  authority  ever 
contained  any  intelligence  which  it  did  not  suit  the  purposes 
of  the  court  to  publish.  The  most  important  parliamentary 
debates,  the  most  important  state  trials,  recorded  in  our  his- 
tory, were  passed  over  in  profound  silence.*  In  the  capital 
the  coffee-houses  supplied  in  some  measure  the  place  of  a 
journal.  Thither  the  Londoners  flocked,  as  the  Athenians  of 
old  flocked  to  the  market-place,  to  hear  whether  there  was 
any  news.  There  men  might  learn  how  brutally  a  Whig  had 
been  treated  the  day  before  in  Westminster  Hall,  what  horri- 
ble accounts  the  letters  from  Edinburgh  gave  of  the  torturing 
of  Covenanters,  how  grossly  the  Navy  Board  had  cheated  the 
crown  in  the  victualling  of  the  fleet,  and  what  grave  charges 
the  Lord  Privy  Seal  had  brought  against  the  Treasury  in  the 
matter  of  the  hearth-money.  But  people  who  lived  at  a  dis- 
tance from  the  great  theatre  of  political  contention 
could  be  kept  regularly  informed  of  what  was  pass- 
ing there  only  by  means  of  news-letters.  To  prepare  such 
letters  became  a  calling  in  London,  as  it  now  is  among  the 
natives  of  India.  The  news-writer  rambled  from  coffee-room 
to  coffee-room,  collecting  reports,  squeezed  himself  into  the 
Sessions  House  at  the  Old  Bailey  if  there  was  an  interesting 
trial,  nay,  perhaps  obtained  admission  to  the  gallery  of  White- 
hall, and  noticed  how  the  King  and  Duke  looked.  In  this 
way  he  gathered  materials  for  weekly  epistles  destined  to 
enlighten  some  county  town  or  some  bench  of  rustic  magis- 
trates. Such  were  the  sources  from  which  the  inhabitants  of 
the  largest  provincial  cities,  and  the  great  body  of  the  gentry 
and  clergy,  learned  almost  all  that  they  knew  of  the  history 
of  their  own  time.  We  must  suppose  that  at  Cambridge 
there  were  as  many  persons  curious  to  know  what  was  pass- 
ing in  the  world  as  at  almost  any  place  in  the  kingdom,  out 
of  London.  Yet  at  Cambridge,  during  a  great  part  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  the  Doctors  of  Laws  and  the 

*  For  example,  there  is  not  a  word  in  the  Gazette  about  the  important  parlia- 
mentary proceedings  of  November,  1685,  or  about  the  trial  and  acquittal  of  the 
seven  bishops. 


360  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  III. 

Masters  of  Arts  had  no  regular  supply  of  news  except  through 
the  London  Gazette.  At  length  the  services  of  one  of  the 
collectors  of  intelligence  in  the  capital  were  employed.  That 
was  a  memorable  day  on  which  the  first  news-letter  from  Lon- 
don was  laid  on  the  table  of  the  only  coffee-room  in  Cam- 
bridge.* At  the  seat  of  a  man  of  fortune  in  the  country  the 
news-letter  was  impatiently  expected.  Within  a  week  after  it 
had  arrived  it  had  been  thumbed  by  twenty  families.  It  fur- 
nished the  neighboring  squires  with  matter  for  talk  over  their 
October,  and  the  neighboring  rectors  with  topics  for  sharp 
sermons  against  "VVhiggery  or  Popery.  Many  of  these  curi- 
ous journals  might  doubtless  still  be  detected  by  a  diligent 
search  in  the  archives  of  old  families.  Some  are  to  be  found 
in  our  public  libraries ;  and  one  series,  which  is  not  the  least 
valuable  part  of  the  literary  treasures  collected  by  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  will  be  occasionally  quoted  in  the  course  of  this 
work.f 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  there  were  then  no  pro- 
vincial newspapers.  Indeed,  except  in  the  capital  and  at  the 
two  Universities,  there  was  scarcely  a  printer  in  the  kingdom. 
The  only  press  in  England  north  of  Trent  appears  to  have 
been  at  York  4 

It  was  not  only  by  means  of  the  London  Gazette  that  the 
government  undertook  to  furnish  political  instruction  to  the 
people.  That  journal  contained  a  scanty  supply  of  news 

*  Roger  North's  Life  of  Dr.  John  North.  On  the  subject  of  news-letters,  see 
the  Examen,  133. 

f  I  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  my  warm  gratitude  to  the  family  of  my 
dear  and  honored  friend  Sir  James  Mackintosh  for  confiding  to  me  the  materials 
collected  by  him  at  a  time  when  he  meditated  a  work  similar  to  that  which  I  have 
undertaken.  I  have  never  seen,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  there  anywhere  exists, 
within  the  same  compass,  so  noble  a  collection  of  extracts  from  public  and  private 
archives.  The  judgment  with  which  Sir  James,  in  great  masses  of  the  rudest  ore 
of  history,  selected  what  was  valuable,  and  rejected  what  was  worthless,  can  be 
fully  appreciated  only  by  one  who  has  toiled  after  him  in  the  same  mine. 

J  Life  of  Thomas  Gent.  A  complete  list  of  all  printing-houses  in  1724  will  be 
found  in  Nichols's  Literary  Anecdotes  of  the  eighteenth  century.  There  had  then 
been  a  great  increase  within  a  few  years  in  the  number  of  presses ;  and  yet  there 
were  thirty-four  counties  in  which  there  was  no  printer,  one  of  those  counties 
being  Lancashire. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  361 

without  comment.  Another  journal,  published  under  the  pat- 
The  observa-  ronage  of  the  court,  consisted  of  comment  without 
news.  This  paper,  called  the  Observator,  was  edited 
by  an  old  Tory  pamphleteer  named  Roger  Lestrange.  Les- 
trange  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  readiness  and  shrewd- 
ness ;  and  his  diction,  though  coarse,  and  disfigured  by  a  mean 
and  flippant  jargon  which  then  passed  for  wit  in  the  green- 
room and  the  tavern,  was  not  without  keenness  and  vigor. 
But  his  nature,  at  once  ferocious  and  ignoble,  showed  itself  in 
every  line  that  he  penned.  When  the  first  Observators  ap- 
peared there  was  some  excuse  for  his  acrimony.  For  the 
Whigs  were  then  powerful;  and  he  had  to  contend  against 
numerous  adversaries,  whose  unscrupulous  violence  might 
seem  to  justify  unsparing  retaliation.  But  in  1685  all  oppo- 
sition had  been  crushed.  A  generous  spirit  would  have  dis- 
dained to  insult  a  party  which  could  not  reply,  and  to  aggra- 
vate the  misery  of  prisoners,  of  exiles,  of  bereaved  families : 
but  from  the  malice  of  Lestrange  the  grave  was  no  hiding- 
place,  and  the  house  of  mourning  no  sanctuary.  In  the  last 
month  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  William  Jenkyn, 
an  aged  dissenting  pastor  of  great  note,  who  had  been  cruelly 
persecuted  for  no  crime  but  that  of  worshipping  God  accord- 
ing to  the  fashion  generally  followed  throughout  Protestant 
Europe,  died  of  hardships  and  privations  in  Newgate.  The 
outbreak  of  popular  sympathy  could  not  be  repressed.  The 
corpse  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  a  train  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  coaches.  Even  courtiers  looked  sad.  Even  the  unthink- 
ing King  showed  some  signs  of  concern.  Lestrange  alone  set 
up  a  howl  of  savage  exultation,  laughed  at  the  weak  compas- 
sion of  the  Trimmers,  proclaimed  that  the  blasphemous  old 
impostor  had  met  with  a  most  righteous  punishment,  and 
vowed  to  wage  war,  not  only  to  the  death,  but  after  death, 
with  all  the  mock  saints  and  martyrs.*  Such  was  the  spirit 
of  the  paper  which  was  at  this  time  the  oracle  of  the  Tory 
party,  and  especially  of  the  parochial  clergy. 

*  Observator,  Jan.  29  and  3l,  1685  ;  Calamy's  Life  of  Baxter;  Non-conformist 
Memorial. 


362  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

Literature  which  could  be  carried  by  the  post-bag  then 
formed  the  greater  part  of  the  intellectual  nutriment  rumi- 
nated by  the  country  divines  and  country  justices, 
books  in  coun-  The  difficulty  and  expense  of  conveying  large  pack- 
ets from  place  to  place  was  so  great,  that  an  ex- 
tensive work  was  longer  in  making  its  way  from  Paternoster 
How  to  Devonshire  or  Lancashire  than  it  now  is  in  reaching 
Kentucky.  How  scantily  a  rural  parsonage  was  then  fur- 
nished, even  with  books  the  most  necessary  to  a  theologian, 
has  already  been  remarked.  The  houses  of  the  gentry  were 
not  more  plentifully  supplied.  Few  knights  of  the  shire  had 
libraries  so  good  as  may  now  perpetually  be  found  in  a  ser- 
vants' hall,  or  in  the  back  parlor  of  a  small  shopkeeper.  An 
esquire  passed  among  his  neighbors  for  a  great  scholar,  if 
Hudibras  and  Baker's  Chronicle,  Tarlton's  Jests  and  the 
Seven  Champions  of  Christendom,  lay  in  his  hall  window 
among  the  fishing-rods  and  fowling-pieces.  No  circulating 
library,  no  book  society,  then  existed  even  in  the  capital :  but 
in  the  capital  those  students  who  could  not  afford  to  purchase 
largely  had  a. resource.  The  shops  of  the  great  booksellers, 
near  Saint  Paul's  Church-yard,  were  crowded  every  day  and 
all  day  long  with  readers ;  and  a  known  customer  was  often 
permitted  to  carry  a  volume  home.  In  the  country  there 
was  no  such  accommodation ;  and  every  man  wras  under  the 
necessity  of  buying  whatever  he  wished  to  read.* 

As  to  the  lady  of  the  manor  and  her  daughters,  their  liter- 
ary stores  generally  consisted  of  a  prayer-book  and  a  receipt- 
Female  edu-  book.  But  in  truth  they  lost  little  by  living  in 
cation.  rural  seclusion.  For,  even  in  the  highest  ranks, 

and  in  those  situations  which  afforded  the  greatest  facilities 
for  mental  improvement,  the  English  women  of  that  genera- 
tion were  decidedly  worse  educated  than  they  have  been  at 
any  other  time  since  the  revival  of  learning.  At  an  earlier 

*  Cotton  seems,  from  his  Angler,  to  have  found  room  for  his  whole  library  in 
his  hall  window ;  and  Cotton  was  a  man  of  letters.  Even  when  Franklin  first  vis- 
ited London  in  1724,  circulating  libraries  were  unknown  there.  The  crowd  at  the 
booksellers'  shops  in  Little  Britain  is  mentioned  by  Roger  North  in  his  life  of  his 
brother  John. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  363 

period  they  had  studied  the  masterpieces  of  ancient  genius. 
In  the  present  day  they  seldom  bestow  much  attention  on 
the  dead  languages ;  but  they  are  familiar  with  the  tongue  of 
Pascal  and  Moliere,  with  the  tongue  of  Dante  and  Tasso,  with 
the  tongue  of  Goethe  and  Schiller ;  nor  is  there  any  purer  or 
more  graceful  English  than  that  which  accomplished  women 
now  speak  and  write.  But,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  the  culture  of  the  female  mind  seems  to 
have  been  almost  entirely  neglected.  If  a  damsel  had  the 
least  smattering  of  literature  she  was  regarded  as  a  prodigy. 
Ladies  highly  born,  highly  bred,  and  naturally  quick-witted, 
were  unable  to  write  a  line  in  their  mother-tongue  without 
solecisms  and  faults  of  spelling  such  as  a  charity -girl  would 
now  be  ashamed  to  commit.* 

The  explanation  may  easily  be  found.  Extravagant  licen- 
tiousness, the  natural  effect  of  extravagant  austerity,  was  now 
the  mode ;  and  licentiousness  had  produced  its  ordinary  effect, 
the  moral  and  intellectual  degradation  of  women.  To  their 
personal  beauty  it  was  the  fashion  to  pay  rude  and  impudent 
homage.  But  the  admiration  and  desire  which  they  inspired 
were  seldom  mingled  with  respect,  with  affection,  or  with  any 
chivalrous  sentiment.  The  qualities  which  fit  them  to  be 
companions,  advisers,  confidential  friends,  rather  repelled  than 
attracted  the  libertines  of  Whitehall.  In  that  court  a  maid 
of  honor,  who  dressed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  do  full  justice 
to  a  white  bosom,  who  ogled  significantly,  who  danced  volup- 
tuously, who  excelled  in  pert  repartee,  who  was  not  ashamed 
to  romp  with  Lords  of  the  Bedchamber  and  Captains  of  the 
Guards,  to  sing  sly  verses  with  sly  expression,  or  to  put  011  a 
page's  dress  for  a  frolic,  was  more  likely  to  be  followed  and 
admired,  more  likely  to  be  honored  with  royal  attentions,  more 
likely  to  win  a  rich  and  noble  husband  than  Jane  Grey  or 

*  One  instance  will  suffice.  Queen  Mary,  the  daughter  of  James,  had  excellent 
natural  abilities,  had  been  educated  by  a  bishop,  was  fond  of  history  and  poetry, 
and  was  regarded  by  very  eminent  men  as  a  superior  woman.  There  is,  in  the 
library  at  the  Hague,  a  superb  English  Bible  which  was  delivered  to  her  when  she 
was  crowned  in  Westminster  Abbey.  In  the  title-page  are  these  words  in  her  own 
hand,  "  This  book  was  given  the  King  and  I,  at  our  crownation.  Marie  R." 


364  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

Lucy  Hutcliinson  would  have  been.  In  such  circumstances 
the  standard  of  female  attainments  was  necessarily  low ;  and 
it  was  more  dangerous  to  be  above  that  standard  than  to  be 
beneath  it.  Extreme  ignorance  and  frivolity  were  thought 
less  unbecoming  in  a  lady  than  the  slightest  tincture  of  ped- 
antry. Of  the  too  celebrated  women  whose  faces  we  still 
admire  on  the  walls  of  Hampton  Court,  few  indeed  were  in 
the  habit  of  reading  anything  more  valuable  than  acrostics, 
lampoons,  and  translations  of  the  Clelia  and  the  Grand  Cyrus. 
The  literary  acquirements,  even  of  the  accomplished  gen- 
tlemen of  that  generation,  seem  to  have  been  somewhat  less 
solid  and  profound  than  at  an  earlier  or  a  later 

Literary  at-  .  *  .  n          •  i 

tainments  of     period.      Greek  learning,  at  least,  did  not  nourish 

gentlemen.          -1  •        •>         t  <•   /-vi       i          i        n 

among  us  in  the  days  of  Charles  the  Second,  as  it 
had  flourished  before  the  civil  war,  or  as  it  again  flourished 
long  after  the  Revolution.  There  were  undoubtedly  scholars 
to  whom  the  whole  Greek  literature,  from  Homer  to  Photius, 
was  familiar :  but  such  scholars  were  to  be  found  almost  ex- 
clusively among  the  clergy  resident  at  the  Universities,  and 
even  at  the  Universities  were  few,  and  were  not  fully  appre- 
ciated. At  Cambridge  it  was  not  thought  by  any  means  nec- 
essary that  a  divine  should  be  able  to  read  the  Gospels  in  the 
original.*  Nor  was  the  standard  at  Oxford  higher.  When, 
in  the  reign  of  William  the  Third,  Christ  Church  rose  up  as 
one  man  to  defend  the  genuineness  of  the  Epistles  of  Pha- 
laris,  that  great  college,  then  considered  as  the  first  seat  of 
philology  in  the  kingdom,  could  not  muster  such  a  stock  of 
Attic  learning  as  is  now  possessed  by  several  youths  at  every 
great  public  school.  It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  a  dead 
language,  neglected  at  the  Universities,  was  not  much  studied 
by  men  of  the  world.  In  a  former  age  the  poetry  and  elo- 
quence of  Greece  had  been  the  delight  of  Raleigh  and  Falk- 
land. In  a  later  age  the  poetry  and  eloquence  of  Greece 
were  the  delight  of  Pitt  and  Fox,  of  Windham  and  Gren- 
ville.  But  during  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century 

*  Roger  North  tells  us  that  his  brother  John,  who  was  Greek  professor  at  Cam- 
bridge, complained  bitterly  of  the  general  neglect  of  the  Greek  tongue  among  the 
academical  clergy. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  365 

there  was  in  England  scarcely  one  eminent  statesman  who 
could  read  with  enjoyment  a  page  of  Sophocles  or  Plato. 

Good  Latin  scholars  were  numerous.  The  language  of 
Home,  indeed,  had  not  altogether  lost  its  imperial  preroga- 
tives, and  was  still,  in  many  parts  of  Europe,  almost  indis- 
pensable to  a  traveller  or  a  negotiator.  To  speak  it  well  was, 
therefore,  a  much  more  common  accomplishment  than  in  our 
time ;  and  neither  Oxford  nor  Cambridge  wanted  poets  who, 
on  a  great  occasion,  could  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  throne  happy 
imitations  of  the  verses  in  which  Yirgil  and  Ovid  had  cele- 
brated the  greatness  of  Augustus. 

Yet  even  the  Latin  was  giving  way  to  a  younger  rival. 
France  united  at  that  time  almost  every  species  of  ascen- 
dency- Her  military  glory  was  at  the  height.  She 

Influence  of        ,  J  .,,.         .*Vf  r..  cl     &T      ,     ,. 

French  liter-  had  vanquished  mighty  coalitions.  She  had  dic- 
tated treaties.  She  had  subjugated  great  cities  and 
provinces.  She  had  forced  the  Castilian  pride  to  yield  her 
the  precedence.  She  had  summoned  Italian  princes  to  pros- 
trate themselves  at  her  footstool.  Her  authority  was  supreme 
in  all  matters  of  good-breeding,  from  a  duel  to  a  minuet.  She 
determined  how  a  gentleman's  coat  must  be  cut,  how  long  his 
peruke  must  be,  whether  his  heels  must  be  high  or  low,  and 
whether  the  lace  on  his  hat  must  be  broad  or  narrow.  In  lit- 
erature she  gave  law  to  the  world.  The  fame  of  her  great 
writers  filled  Europe.  No  other  country  could  produce  a 
tragic  poet  equal  to  Racine,  a  comic  poet  equal  to  Moliere,  a 
trifler  so  agreeable  as  La  Fontaine,  a  rhetorician  so  skilful  as 
Bossuet.  The  literary  glory  of  Italy  and  of  Spain  had  set; 
that  of  Germany  had  not  yet  dawned.  The  genius,  therefore, 
of  the  eminent  men  who  adorned  Paris  shone  forth  with  a 
splendor  which  was  set  off  to  full  advantage  by  contrast. 
France,  indeed,  had  at  that  time  an  empire  over  mankind, 
such  as  even  the  Roman  Republic  never  attained.  For,  when 
•Rome  was  politically  dominant,  she  was  in  arts  and  letters 
the  humble  pupil  of  Greece.  France  had,  over  the  surround- 
ing countries,  at  once  the  ascendency  which  Rome  had  over 
Greece,  and  the  ascendency  which  Greece  had  over  Rome. 
French  was  fast  becoming  the  universal  language,  the  Ian- 


366  HISTOEY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

guage  of  fashionable  society,  the  language  of  diplomacy.  At 
several  courts  princes  and  nobles  spoke  it  more  accurately 
and  politely  than  their  mother-tongue.  In  our  island  there 
was  less  of  this  servility  than  on  the  Continent.  Neither  our 
good  nor  our  bad  qualities  were  those  of  imitators.  Yet  even 
here  homage  was  paid,  awkwardly  indeed  and  sullenly,  to  the 
literary  supremacy  of  our  neighbors.  The  melodious  Tuscan, 
so  familiar  to  the  gallants  and  ladies  of  the  court  of  Eliza- 
beth, sank  into  contempt.  A  gentleman  who  quoted  Horace 
or  Terence  was  considered  in  good  company  as  a  pompous 
pedant.  But  to  garnish  his  conversation  with  scraps  of 
French  was  the  best  proof  which  he  could  give  of  his  parts 
and  attainments.*  New  canons  of  criticism,  new  models  of 
style  came  into  fashion.  The  quaint  ingenuity  which  had  de- 
formed the  verses  of  Donne,  and  had  been  a  blemish  on  those 
of  Cowley,  disappeared  from  our  poetry.  Our  prose  became 
less  majestic,  less  artfully  involved,  less  variously  musical  than 
that  of  an  earlier  age,  but  more  lucid,  more  easy,  and  better 
fitted  for  controversy  and  narrative.  In  these  changes  it  is 
impossible  not  to  recognize  the  influence  of  French  precept 
and  of  French  example.  Great  masters  of  our  language,  in 
their  most  dignified  compositions,  affected  to  use  French 
words,  when  English  words,  quite  as  expressive  and  sonorous, 
were  at  hand:f  and  from  France  was  imported  the  tragedy 
in  rhyme,  an  exotic  which,  in  our  soil,  drooped,  and  speedily 
died. 

It  would  have  been  well  if  our  writers  had  also  copied  the 
decorum  which  their  great  French  contemporaries,  with  few 
exceptions, preserved;  for  the  profligacy  of  the  English  plays, 

*  Butler,  in  a  satire  of  great  asperity,  says, 

"  For,  though  to  smatter  words  of  Greek 
And  Latin  be  the  rhetorique 
Of  pedants  counted,  and  vainglorious, 
To  smatter  French  is  meritorious." 

f  The  most  offensive  instance  which  I  remember  is  in  a  poem  on  the  corona- 
tion of  Charles  the  Second  by  Dryden,  who  certainly  could  not  plead  poverty  as  an 
excuse  for  borrowing  words  from  any  foreign  tongue : 

"  Hither  in  summer  evenings  yon  repair 
To  taste  the  fraicheur  of  the  cooler  air." 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  367 

satires,  songs,  and  novels  of  that  age  is  a  deep  blot  on  our 
immorality  of  national  fame.  The  evil  may  easily  be  traced  to  its 
ai^oflng^"  source.  The  wits  and  the  Puritans  had  never  been 
land.  on  frien(jiy  terms.  There  was  no  sympathy  be- 

tween the  two  classes.  They  looked  on  the  whole  system  of 
human  life  from  different  points  and  in  different  lights.  The 
earnest  of  each  was  the  jest  of  the  other.  The  pleasures  of 
each  were  the  torments  of  the  other.  To  the  stern  precisian 
even  the  innocent  sport  of  the  fancy  seemed  a  crime.  To 
light  and  festive  natures  the  solemnity  of  the  zealous  breth- 
ren furnished  copious  matter  of  ridicule.  From  the  Reforma- 
tion to  the  civil  war,  almost  every  writer,  gifted  with  a  fine 
sense  of  the  ludicrous,  had  taken  some  opportunity  of  assail- 
ing the  straight -haired,  snuffling,  whining  saints,  who  chris- 
tened their  children  out  of  the  Book  of  Neherniah,  who 
groaned  in  spirit  at  the  sight  of  Jack  in  the  Green,  and  who 
thought  it  impious  to  taste  plum  porridge  on  Christmas-day. 
At  length  a  time  came  when  the  laughers  began  to  look  grave 
in  their  turn.  The  rigid,  ungainly  zealots,  after  having  fur- 
nished much  good  sport  during  two  generations,  rose  up  in 
arms,  conquered,  ruled,  and,  grimly  smiling,  trod  down  under 
their  feet  the  whole  crowd  of  mockers.  The  wounds  inflicted 
by  gay  and  petulant  malice  were  retaliated  with  the  gloomy 
and  implacable  malice  peculiar  to  bigots  who  mistake  their 
own  rancor  for  virtue.  The  theatres  were  closed.  The  play- 
ers were  flogged.  The  press  was  put  under  the  guardianship 
of  austere  licensers.  The  Muses  were  banished  from  their 
own  favorite  haunts,  Cambridge  and  Oxford.  Cowley,  Cra- 
shaw,  and  Cleveland  were  ejected  from  their  fellowships. 
The  young  candidate  for  academical  honors  was  no  longer 
required  to  write  Ovidian  epistles  or  Virgilian  pastorals,  but 
was  strictly  interrogated  by  a  synod  of  lowering  Supralapsa- 
rians  as  to  the  day  and  hour  when  he  experienced  the  new 
birth.  Such  a  system  was  of  course  fruitful  of  hypocrites. 
Under  sober  clothing  and  under  visages  composed  to  the  ex- 
pression of  austerity  lay  hid  during  several  years  the  intense 
desire  of  license  and  of  revenge.  At  length  that  desire  was 
gratified.  The  Restoration  emancipated  thousands  of  minds 


368  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  III. 

from  a  yoke  which  had  become  insupportable.  The  old  fight 
recommenced,  but  with  an  animosity  altogether  new.  It  was 
now  not  a  sportive  combat,  but  a  war  to  the  death.  The 
Roundhead  had  no  better  quarter  to  expect  from  those  whom 
he  had  persecuted  than  a  cruel  slave-driver  can  expect  from 
insurgent  slaves  still  bearing  the  marks  of  his  collars  and  his 
scourges. 

The  war  between  wit  and  Puritanism  soon  became  a  war 
between  wit  and  morality.  The  hostility  excited  by  a  gro- 
tesque caricature  of  virtue  did  not  spare  virtue  herself. 
Whatever  the  canting  Roundhead  had  regarded  with  rever- 
ence was  insulted.  Whatever  he  had  proscribed  was  favored. 
Because  he  had  been  scrupulous  about  trifles,  all  scruples 
were  treated  with  derision.  Because  he  had  covered  his  fail- 
ings with  the  mask  of  devotion,  men  were  encouraged  to  ob- 
trude with  Cynic  impudence  all  their  most  scandalous  vices 
on  the  public  eye.  Because  he  had  punished  illicit  love  with 
barbarous  severity,  virgin  purity  and  conjugal  fidelity  were 
made  a  jest.  To  that  sanctimonious  jargon  which  was  his 
Shibboleth,  was  opposed  another  jargon  not  less  absurd  and 
much  more  odious.  As  he  never  opened  his  mouth  except  in 
scriptural  phrase,  the  new  breed  of  wits  and  fine  gentlemen 
never  opened  their  mouths  without  uttering  ribaldry  of  which 
a  porter  would  now  be  ashamed,  and  without  calling  on  their 
Maker  to  curse  them,  sink  them,  confound  them,  blast  them, 
and  damn  them. 

It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  our  polite  literature,  when 
it  revived  with  the  revival  of  the  old  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
polity,  should  have  been  profoundly  immoral.  A  few  emi- 
nent men,  who  belonged  to  an  earlier  and  better  age,  were 
exempt  from  the  general  contagion.  The  verse  of  Waller 
still  breathed  the  sentiments  which  had  animated  a  more  chiv- 
alrous generation.  Cowley,  distinguished  as  a  loyalist  and  as 
a  man  of  letters,  raised  his  voice  courageously  against  the  im- 
morality which  disgraced  both  letters  and  loyalty.  A  migh- 
tier poet,  tried  at  once  by  pain,  danger,  poverty,  obloquy, 
and  blindness,  meditated,  undisturbed  by  the  obscene  tumult 
which  raged  all  around  him,  a  song  so  sublime  and  so  holy 


CH.  HI.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  3G9 

that  it  would  not  have  misbecome  the  lips  of  those  ethereal 
Virtues  whom  he  saw,  with  that  inner  eye  which  no  calamity 
could  darken,  flinging  down  on  the  jasper  pavement  their 
crowns  of  amaranth  and  gold.  The  vigorous  and  fertile  gen- 
ius of  Butler,  if  it  did  not  altogether  escape  the  prevailing 
infection,  took  the  disease  in  a  mild  form.  But  these  were 
men  whose  minds  had  been  trained  in  a  world  which  had 
passed  away.  They  gave  place  in  no  long  time  to  a  younger 
generation  of  wits ;  and  of  that  generation,  from  Dryden 
down  to  Durfey,  the  common  characteristic  was  hard-hearted, 
shameless,  swaggering  licentiousness,  at  once  inelegant  and 
inhuman.  The  influence  of  these  writers  was  doubtless  nox- 
ious, yet  less  noxious  than  it  would  have  been  had  they  been 
less  depraved.  The  poison  which  they  administered  was  so 
strong  that  it  was,  in  no  long  time,  rejected  with  nausea. 
None  of  them  understood  the  dangerous  art  of  associating 
images  of  unlawful  pleasure  with  all  that  is  endearing  and 
ennobling.  None  of  them  was  awrare  that  a  certain  decorum 
is  essential  even  to  voluptuousness,  that  drapery  may  be  more 
alluring  than  exposure,  and  that  the  imagination  may  be  far 
more  powerfully  moved  by  delicate  hints  which  impel  it  to 
exert  itself,  than  by  gross  descriptions  which  it  takes  in 
passively. 

The  spirit  of  the  Antipuritan  reaction  pervades  almost  the 
whole  polite  literature  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second. 
But  the  very  quintessence  of  that  spirit  will  be  found  in  the 
comic  drama.  The  playhouses,  shut  by  the  meddling  fanatic 
in  the  day  of  his  power,  were  again  crowded.  To  their  old 
attractions  new  and  more  powerful  attractions  had  been  added. 
Scenery,  dresses,  and  decorations,  such  as  would  now  be 
thought  mean  or  absurd,  but  such  as  would  have  been  es- 
teemed incredibly  magnificent  by  those  who,  early  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  sat  on  the  filthy  benches  of  the  Hope,  or 
under  the  thatched  roof  of  the  Rose,  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the 
multitude.  The  fascination  of  sex  was  called  in  to  aid  the 
fascination  of  art :  and  the  young  spectator  saw,  with  emo- 
tions unknown  to  the  contemporaries  of  Shakspeare  and 
Jonson,  tender  and  sprightly  heroines  personated  by  lovelv 

I.— 24 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cir.  III. 

women.  From  the  day  on  which  the  theatres  were  reopened 
they  became  seminaries  of  vice ;  and  the  evil  propagated  it- 
self. The  profligacy  of  the  representations  soon  drove  away 
sober  people.  The  frivolous  and  dissolute  who  remained  re- 
quired every  year  stronger  and  stronger  stimulants.  Thus 
the  artists  corrupted  the  spectators,  and  the  spectators  the 
artists,  till  the  turpitude  of  the  drama  became  such  as  must 
astonish  all  who  are  not  aware  that  extreme  relaxation  is  the 
natural  effect  of  extreme  restraint,  and  that  an  age  of  hypoc- 
risy is,  in  the  regular  course  of  things,  followed  by  an  age  of 
impudence. 

Nothing  is  more  characteristic  of  the  times  than  the  care 
with  which  the  poets  contrived  to  put  all  their  loosest  verses 
into  the  mouths  of  women.  The  compositions  in  which  the 
greatest  license  was  taken  were  the  epilogues.  They  were 
almost  always  recited  by  favorite  actresses;  and  nothing 
charmed  the  depraved  audience  so  much  as  to  hear  lines 
grossly  indecent  repeated  by  a  beautiful  girl,  who  was  sup- 
posed to  have  not  yet  lost  her  innocence.* 

Our  theatre  was  indebted  in  that  age  for  many  plots  and 
characters  to  Spain,  to  France,  and  to  the  old  English  mas- 
ters ;  but  whatever  our  dramatists  touched  they  tainted.  In 
their  imitations  the  houses  of  Calderon's  stately  and  high- 
spirited  Castilian  gentlemen  became  sties  of  vice,  Shakspeare's 
Viola  a  procuress,  Moliere's  Misanthrope  a  ravisher,  Moliere's 
Agnes  an  adulteress.  Nothing  could  be  so  pure  or  so  heroic 
but  that  it  became  foul  and  ignoble  by  transfusion  through 
those  foul  and  ignoble  minds. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  drama;  and  the  drama  was  the 
department  of  polite  literature  in  which  a  poet  had  the  best 
chance  of  obtaining  a  subsistence  by  his  pen.  The  sale  of 
books  was  so  small  that  a  man  of  the  greatest  name  could 
hardly  expect  more  than  a  pittance  for  the  copyright  of  the 
best  performance.  There  cannot  be  a  stronger  instance  than 
the  fate  of  Dry  den's  last  production,  the  Fables.  That  vol- 


*  Jeremy  Collier  has  censured  this  odious  practice  with  his  usual  force  and 
keenness. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN   1685.  371 

ume  was  published  when  he  was  universally  admitted  to  be 
the  chief  of  living  English  poets.  It  contains  about  twelve 
thousand  lines.  The  versification  is  admirable,  the  narratives 
and  descriptions  full  of  life.  To  this  day  Palamon  and  Ar- 
cite,  Cymon  and  Iphigenia,  Theodore  and  Honoria,  are  the 
delight  both  of  critics  and  of  school -boys.  The  collection 
includes  Alexander's  Feast,  the  noblest  ode  in  our  language. 
For  the  copyright  Dryden  received  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds — less  than  in  our  days  has  sometimes  been  paid  for 
two  articles  in  a  review.*  Nor  does  the  bargain  seem  to 
have  been  a  hard  one.  For  the  book  went  off  slowly;  and 
the  second  edition  was  not  required  till  the  author  had  been 
ten  years  in  his  grave.  By  writing  for  the  theatre  it  was 
possible  to  earn  a  much  larger  sum  with  much  less  trouble. 
Southern  made  seven  hundred  pounds  by  one  play.f  Otway 
was  raised  from  beggary  to  temporary  affluence  by  the  suc- 
cess of  his  Don  Carlos.:}:  Shadwell  cleared  a  hundred  and 
thirty  pounds  by  a  single  representation  of  the  Squire  of  Al- 
satia.§  The  consequence  was  that  every  man  who  had  to  live 
by  his  wit  wrote  plays,  whether  he  had  any  internal  vocation 
to  write  plays  or  not.  It  was  thus  with  Dryden.  As  a  satir- 
ist he  has  rivalled  Juvenal.  As  a  didactic  poet  he  perhaps 
might,  with  care  and  meditation,  have  rivalled  Lucretius.  Of 
lyric  poets  he  is,  if  not  the  most  sublime,  the  most  brilliant 
and  spirit-stirring.  But  nature,  profuse  to  him  of  many  rare 
gifts,  had  withheld  from  him  the  dramatic  faculty.  Never- 
theless, all  the  energies  of  his  best  years  were  wasted  on  dra- 
matic composition.  He  had  too  much  judgment  not  to  be 
aware  that  in  the  power  of  exhibiting  character  by  means  of 
dialogue  he  was  deficient.  That  deficiency  he  did  his  best  to 
conceal,  sometimes  by  surprising  and  amusing  incidents,  some- 
times by  stately  declamation,  sometimes  by  harmonious  num- 
bers, sometimes  by  ribaldry  but  too  well  suited  to  the  taste  of 
a  profane  and  licentious  pit.  Yet  he  never  obtained  any  the- 

*  The  contract  will  be  found  in  Sir  Walter  Scott's  edition  of  Dryden. 
f  See  the  Life  of  Southern,  by  Shiels. 
£  See  Rochester's  Trial  of  the  Poets. 
8  Some  Account  of  the  English  Stage. 


372  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

atrical  success  equal  to  that  which  rewarded  the  exertions  of 
some  men  far  inferior  to  him  in  general  powers.  He  thought 
himself  fortunate  if  he  cleared  a  hundred  guineas  by  a  play ; 
a  scanty  remuneration,  yet  apparently  larger  than  he  could 
have  earned  in  any  other  way  by  the  same  quantity  of  labor.* 

The  recompense  which  the  wits  of  that  age  could  obtain 
from  the  public  was  so  small,  that  they  were  under  the  neces- 
sity of  eking  out  their  incomes  by  levying  contributions  on 
the  great.  Every  rich  and  good-natured  lord  was  pestered  by 
authors  with  a  mendicancy  so  importunate,  and  a  flattery  so 
abject,  as  may  in  our  time  seem  incredible.  The  patron  to 
whom  a  work  was  inscribed  was  expected  to  reward  the  writer 
with  a  purse  of  gold.  The  fee  paid  for  the  dedication  of  a 
book  was  often  much  larger  than  the  sum  which  any  pub- 
lisher would  give  for  the  copyright.  Books  were,  therefore, 
frequently  printed  merely  that  they  might  be  dedicated.  This 
traffic  in  praise  produced  the  effect  which  might  have  been 
expected.  Adulation  pushed  to  the  verge,  sometimes  of  non- 
sense, and  sometimes  of  impiety,  was  not  thought  to  disgrace 
a  poet.  Independence,  veracity,  self-respect,  were  things  not 
required  by  the  world  from  him.  In  truth,  he  was  in  morals 
something  between  a  pander  and  a  beggar. 

To  the  other  vices  which  degraded  the  literary  character 
was  added,  toward  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Sec- 
ond, the  most  savage  intemperance  of  party  spirit.  The  wits, 
as  a  class,  had  been  impelled  by  their  old  hatred  of  Puritan- 
ism to  take  the  side  of  the  court,  and  had  been  found  useful 
allies.  Dryden,  in  particular,  had  done  good  service  to  the 
government.  His  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  the  greatest  sat- 
ire of  modern  times,  had  amazed  the  town,  had  made  its  way 
with  unprecedented  rapidity  even  into  rural  districts,  and  had, 
wherever  it  appeared,  bitterly  annoyed  the  Exclusionists,  and 
raised  the  courage  of  the  Tories.  But  we  must  not,  in  the 
admiration  which  we  naturally  feel  for  noble  diction  and  ver- 
sification, forget  the  great  distinctions  of  good  and  evil.  The 
spirit  by  which  Dryden  and  several  of  his  compeers  were  at 

*  Life  of  Southern,  by  Shiels. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  373 

this  time  animated  against  the  Whigs  deserves  to  be  called 
fiendish.  The  servile  judges  and  sheriffs  of  those  evil  days 
could  not  shed  blood  as  fast  as  the  poets  cried  out  for  it. 
Calls  for  more  victims,  hideous  jests  on  hanging,  bitter  taunts 
on  those  who,  having  stood  by  the  King  in  the  hour  of  dan- 
ger, now  advised  him  to  deal  mercifully  and  generously  by 
his  vanquished  enemies,  were  publicly  recited  on  the  stage, 
and,  that  nothing  might  be  wanting  to  the  guilt  and  the 
shame,  were  recited  by  women,  who,  having  long  been  taught 
to  discard  all  ,modesty,  were  now  taught  to  discard  all  com- 
passion.* 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that,  while  the  lighter  literature  of 
England  was  thus  becoming  a  nuisance  and  a  national  dis- 
grace, the  English  genius  was  effecting  in  science 
ence  in  Eng-  a  revolution  which  will,  to  the  end  of  time,  be  reck- 
oned among  the  highest  achievements  of  the  human 
intellect.  Bacon  had  sown  the  good  seed  in  a  sluggish  soil 
and  an  ungenial  season.  He  had  not  expected  an  early  crop, 
and  in  his  last  testament  had  solemnly  bequeathed  his  fame 
to  the  next  age.  During  a  whole  generation,  his  philosophy 
had,  amidst  tumults,  wars,  and  proscriptions,  been  slowly  ri- 
pening in  a  few  well-constituted  minds.  While  factions  were 
struggling  for  dominion  over  each  other,  a  small  body  of  sages 
had  turned  away  with  benevolent  disdain  from  the  conflict, 
and  had  devoted  themselves  to  the  nobler  work  of  extending 
the  dominion  of  man  over  matter.  As  soon  as  tranquillity 
was  restored,  these  teachers  easily  found  attentive  audience. 
For  the  discipline  through  which  the  nation  had  passed  had 
brought  the  public  mind  to  a  temper  well  fitted  for  the  re- 
ception of  the  Yerulamian  doctrine.  The  civil  troubles  had 
stimulated  the  faculties  of  the  educated  classes,  and  had  called 
forth  a  restless  activity  and  an  insatiable  curiosity,  such  as  had 
not  before  been  known  among  us.  Yet  the  effect  of  those 
troubles  was  that  schemes  of  political  and  religious  reform 
were  generally  regarded  with  suspicion  and  contempt.  Dur- 

*  If  any  reader  thinks  my  expressions  too  severe,  I  would  advise  him  to  read 
Dryden's  Epilogue  to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  and  to  observe  that  it  was  spoken  by  a 
woman. 


374  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

ing  twenty  years  the  chief  employment  of  busy  and  ingenious 
men  had  been  to  frame  constitutions  with  first  magistrates, 
without  first  magistrates,  with  hereditary  senates,  with  senates 
appointed  by  lot,  with  annual  senates,  with  perpetual  senates. 
In  these  plans  nothing  was  omitted.  All  the  detail,  all  the 
nomenclature,  all  the  ceremonial  of  the  imaginary  government 
was  fully  set  forth — Polemarchs  and  Phylarchs,  Tribes  and 
Galaxies,  the  Lord  Archon  and  the  Lord  Strategus.  Which 
ballot-boxes  were  to  be  green  and  which  red,  which  balls  were 
to  be  of  gold  and  which  of  silver,  which  magistrates  were 
to  wear  hats  and  which  black  velvet  caps  with  peaks,  how  the 
mace  was  to  be  carried  and  when  the  heralds  were  to  uncover, 
these,  and  a  hundred  more  such  trifles,  were  gravely  consid- 
ered and  arranged  by  men  of  no  common  capacity  and  learn- 
ing.* But  the  time  for  these  visions  had  gone  by ;  and,  if 
any  steadfast  republican  still  continued  to  amuse  himself  with 
them,  fear  of  public  derision  and  of  a  criminal  information 
generally  induced  him  to  keep  his  fancies  to  himself.  It  was 
now  unpopular  and  unsafe  to  mutter  a  word  against  the  fun- 
damental laws  of  the  monarchy:  but  daring  and  ingenious 
men  might  indemnify  themselves  by  treating  with  disdain 
what  had  lately  been  considered  as  the  fundamental  laws  of 
nature.  The  torrent  which  had  been  dammed  up  in  one  chan- 
nel rushed  violently  into  another.  The  revolutionary  spirit, 
ceasing  to  operate  in  politics,  began  to  exert  itself  with  unprec- 
edented vigor  and  hardihood  in  every  department  of  physics. 
The  year  1660,  the  era  of  the  restoration  of  the  old  constitu- 
tion, is  also  the  era  from  which  dates  the  ascendency  of  the 
new  philosophy.  In  that  year  the  Royal  Society,  destined  to 
be  a  chief  agent  in  a  long  series  of  glorious  and  salutary  re- 
forms, began  to  exist.f  In  a  few  months  experimental  sci- 
ence became  all  the  mode.  The  transfusion  of  blood,  the 
ponderation  of  air,  the  fixation  of  mercury,  succeeded  to  that 
place  in  the  public  mind  which  had  been  lately  occupied  by 
the  controversies  of  the  Rota.  Dreams  of  perfect  forms  of 


*  See  particularly  Harrington's  Oceana. 
f  See  Sprat's  History  of  the  Royal  Society. 


CH.  HI.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  375 

government  made  way  for  dreams  of  wings  with  which  men 
were  to  fly  from  the  Tower  to  the  Abbey,  and  of  double-keeled 
ships  which  were  never  to  founder  in  the  fiercest  storm.  All 
classes  were  hurried  along  by  the  prevailing  sentiment.  Cav- 
alier and  Roundhead,  Churchman  and  Puritan,  were  for  once 
allied.  Divines,  jurists,  statesmen,  nobles,  princes,  swelled  the 
triumph  of  the  Baconian  philosophy.  Poets  sang  with  em- 
ulous fervor  the  approach  of  the  Golden  Age.  Cowley,  in 
lines  weighty  with  thought  and  resplendent  with  wit,  urged 
the  chosen  seed  to  take  possession  of  the  promised  land  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey,  that  land  which  their  great  deliverer 
and  law-giver  had  seen,  as  from  the  summit  of  Pisgah,  but  had 
not  been  permitted  to  enter.*  Dryden,  with  more  zeal  than 
knowledge,  joined  his  voice  to  the  general  acclamation,  and 
foretold  things  which  neither  he  nor  anybody  else  understood. 
The  Royal  Society,  he  predicted,  would  soon  lead  us  to  the 
extreme  verge  of  the  globe,  and  there  delight  us  with  a  better 
view  of  the  moon.f  Two  able  and  aspiring  prelates,  Ward, 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  and  Wilkins,  Bishop  of  Chester,  were 
conspicuous  among  the  leaders  of  the  movement.  Its  history 
was  eloquently  written  by  a  younger  divine,  who  was  rising 
to  high  distinction  in.  his  profession,  Thomas  Sprat,  afterward 
Bishop  of  Rochester.  Both  Chief -justice  Hale  and  Lord 
Keeper  Guildford  stole  some  hours  from  the  business  of  their 
courts  to  write  on  hydrostatics.  Indeed  it  was  under  the  im- 
mediate direction  of  Guildford  that  the  first  barometers  ever 
exposed  to  sale  in  London  were  constructed.^:  Chemistry  di- 
vided, for  a  time,  with  wine  and  love,  with  the  stage  and  the 
gaming-table,  with  the  intrigues  of  a  courtier  and  the  intrigues 
of  a  demagogue,  the  attention  of  the  fickle  Buckingham. 
Rupert  has  the  credit  of  having  invented  mezzotinto ;  and 
from  him  is  named  that  curious  bubble  of  glass  which  has 

*  Cowley's  Ode  to  the  Royal  Society. 

f  "  Then  we  upon  the  globe's  last  verge  shall  go, 

And  view  the  ocean  leaning  on  the  sky ; 
From  thence  our  rolling  neighbors  we  shall  know, 
And  on  the  lunar  world  securely  pry." — Annus  Mirabilis,  164. 
North's  Life  of  Guildford. 


376  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

long  amused  children  and  puzzled  philosophers.  Charles 
himself  had  a  laboratory  at  Whitehall,  and  was  far  more  ac- 
tive and  attentive  there  than  at  the  council-board.  It  was  al- 
most necessary  to  the  character  of  a  fine  gentleman  to  have 
something  to  say  about  air-pumps  and  telescopes ;  and  even 
fine  ladies,  now  and  then,  thought  it  becoming  to  affect  a  taste 
for  science,  went  in  coaches  and  six  to  visit  the  Gresham  curi- 
osities, and  broke  forth  into  cries  of  delight  at  finding  that  a 
magnet  really  attracted  a  needle,  and  that  a  microscope  really 
made  a  fly  look  as  large  as  a  sparrow.* 

In  this,  as  in  every  great  stir  of  the  human  mind,  there  was 
doubtless  something  which  might  well  move  a  smile.  It  is 
the  universal  law  that  whatever  pursuit,  whatever  doctrine, 
becomes  fashionable,  shall  lose  a  portion  of  that  dignity  which 
it  had  possessed  while  it  was  confined  to  a  small  but  earnest 
minority,  and  was  loved  for  its  own  sake  alone.  It  is  true 
that  the  follies  of  some  persons  wrho,  without  any  real  apti- 
tude for  science,  professed  a  passion  for  it,  furnished  matter 
of  contemptuous  mirth  to  a  few  malignant  satirists  who  be- 
longed to  the  preceding  generation,  and  were  not. disposed  to 
unlearn  the  lore  of  their  youth.f  But  it  is  not  less  true  that 
the  great  work  of  interpreting  nature  was  performed  by  the 
English  of  that  age  as  it  had  never  before  been  performed 
in  any  age  by  any  nation.  The  spirit  of  Francis  Bacon  was 
abroad,  a  spirit  admirably  compounded  of  audacity  and  sobri- 
ety. There  was  a  strong  persuasion  that  the  whole  world 
was  full  of  secrets  of  high  moment  to  the  happiness  of  man, 
and  that  man  had,  by  his  Maker,  been  intrusted  with  the  key 
which,  rightly  used,  would  give  access  to  them.  There  was 
at  the  same  time  a  conviction  that  in  physics  it  was  impos- 
sible to  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  general  laws  except  by 
the  careful  observation  of  particular  facts.  Deeply  impressed 
with  these  great  truths,  the  professors  of  the  new  philosophy 
applied  themselves  to  their  task,  and,  before  a  quarter  of  a 

*  Pepys's  Diary,  May  30,  1667. 

f  Butler  was,  I  think,  the  only  man  of  real  genius  who,  between  the  Restoration 
and  the  Revolution,  showed  a  bitter  enmity  to  the  new  philosophy,  as  it  was  then 
called.  See  the  Satire  on  the  Royal  Society,  and  the  Elephant  in  the  Moon. 


Cn.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  377 

century  had  expired,  they  had  given  ample  earnest  of  what 
has  since  been  achieved.  Already  a  reform  of  agriculture 
had  been  commenced.  New  vegetables  were  cultivated.  New 
implements  of  husbandry  were  employed.  New  manures 
were  applied  to  the  soil.*  Evelyn  had,  under  the  formal 
sanction  of  the  Royal  Society,  given  instruction  to  his  country- 
men in  planting.  Temple,  in  his  intervals  of  leisure,  had  tried 
many  experiments  in  horticulture,  and  had  proved  that  many 
delicate  fruits,  the  natives  of  more  favored  climates,  might, 
with  the  help  of  art,  be  grown  on  English  ground.  Medicine, 
which  in  France  was  still  in  abject  bondage,  and  afforded  an 
inexhaustible  subject  of  just  ridicule  to  Moliere,  had  in  Eng- 
land become  an  experimental  and  progressive  science,  and  ev- 
ery day  made  some  new  advance,  in  defiance  of  Hippocrates 
and  Galen.  The  attention  of  speculative  men  had  been,  for 
the  first  time,  directed  to  the  important  subject  of  sanitary 
police.  The  great  plague  of  1665  induced  them  to  consider 
with  care  the  defective  architecture,  draining,  and  ventilation 
of  the  capital.  The  great  fire  of  1666  afforded  an  opportu- 
nity for  effecting  extensive  improvements.  The  whole  mat- 
ter was  diligently  examined  by  the  Royal  Society ;  and  to 
the  suggestions  of  that  body  must  be  partly  attributed  the 
changes  which,  though  far  short  of  what  the  public  welfare 
required,  yet  made  a  wide  difference  between  the  new  and  the 
old  London,  and  probably  put  a  final  close  to  the  ravages  of 
pestilence  in  our  country. f  At  the  same  time  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Society,  Sir  William  Petty,  created  the  science 
of  political  arithmetic,  the  humble  but  indispensable  hand- 
maid of  political  philosophy.  No  kingdom  of  nature  was 
left  unexplored.  To  that  period  belong  the  chemical  discov- 
eries of  Boyle,  and  the  earliest  botanical  researches  of  Sloane. 
It  was  then  that  Ray  made  a  new  classification  of  birds  and 
fishes,  and  that  the  attention  of  Woodward  was  first  drawn 
toward  fossils  and  shells.  One  after  another  phantoms  which 

*  The  eagerness  with  which  the  agriculturists  of  that  age  tried  experiments  and 
introduced  improvements  is  well  described  by  Aubrey.  See  the  Natural  History 
of  Wiltshire,  1685. 

f  Sprat's  History  of  the  Royal  Society. 


378  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

had  haunted  the  world  through  ages  of  darkness  fled  before 
the  light.  Astrology  and  alchemy  became  jests.  Soon  there 
was  scarcely  a  county  in  which  some  of  the  Quorum  did  not 
smile  contemptuously  when  an  old  woman  was  brought  be- 
fore them  for  riding  on  broomsticks  or  giving  cattle  the  mur- 
rain. But  it  was  in  those  noblest  and  most  arduous  depart- 
ments of  knowledge  in  which  induction  and  mathematical 
demonstration  co-operate  for  the  discovery  of  truth,  that  the 
English  genius  won  in  that  age  the  most  memorable  triumphs. 
John  "Wallis  placed  the  whole  system  of  statics  on  a  new 
foundation.  Edmund  Halley  investigated  the  properties  of 
the  atmosphere,  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  sea,  the  laws  of  mag- 
netism, and  the  course  of  the  comets ;  nor  did  he  shrink  from 
toil,  peril,  and  exile  in  the  cause  of  science.  While  he,  on  the 
rock  of  Saint  Helena,  mapped  the  constellations  of  the  south- 
ern hemisphere,  our  national  observatory  was  rising  at  Green- 
wich ;  and  John  Flamsteed,  the  first  Astronomer  Royal,  was 
commencing  that  long  series  of  observations  which  is  never 
mentioned  without  respect  and  gratitude  in  any  part  of  the 
globe.  But  the  glory  of  these  men,  eminent  as  they  were,  is 
cast  into  the  shade  by  the  transcendent  lustre  of  one  immortal 
name.  In  Isaac  Newton  two  kinds  of  intellectual  power, 
which  have  little  in  common,  and  which  are  not  often  found 
together  in  a  very  high  degree  of  vigor,  but  which  neverthe- 
less are  equally  necessary  in  the  most  sublime  departments  of 
physics,  were  united  as  they  have  never  been  united  before 
or  since.  There  may  have  been  minds  as  happily  constituted 
as  his  for  the  cultivation  of  pure  mathematical  science :  there 
may  have  been  minds  as  happily  constituted  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  science  purely  experimental ;  but  in  no  other  mind 
have  the  demonstrative  faculty  and  the  inductive  faculty  co- 
existed in  such  supreme  excellence  and  perfect  harmony. 
Perhaps  in  the  days  of  Scotists  and  Thomists  even  his  intellect 
might  have  run  to  waste,  as  many  intellects  ran  to  waste  which 
were  inferior  only  to  his.  Happily  the  spirit  of  the  age  on 
which  his  lot  was  cast  gave  the  right  direction  to  his  mind; 
and  his  mind  reacted  with  tenfold  force  on  the  spirit  of  the 
age.  In  the  year  1685  his  fame,  though  splendid,  was  only 


Cn.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  379 

dawning;  but  his  genius  was  in  the  meridian.  His  great 
work,  that  work  which  effected  a  revolution  in  the  most  im- 
portant provinces  of  natural  philosophy,  had  been  completed, 
but  was  not  yet  published,  and  was  just  about  to  be  submitted 
to  the  consideration  of  the  Royal  Society. 

It  is  not  very  easy  to  explain  why  the  nation  which  was  so 
far  before  its  neighbors  in  science  should  in  art  have  been  far 
state  of  the  behind  them.  Yet  such  was  the  fact.  It  is  true 
that  in  architecture,  an  art  which  is  half  a  science,  an 
art  in  which  none  but  a  geometrician  can  excel,  an  art  which 
lias  no  standard  of  grace  but  what  is  directly  or  indirectly  de- 
pendent on  utility,  an  art  of  which  the  creations  derive  a  part, 
at  least,  of  their  majesty  from  mere  bulk,  our  country  could 
boast  of  one  truly  great  man,  Christopher  Wren ;  and  the  lire 
which  laid  London  in  ruins  had  given  him  an  opportunity, 
unprecedented  in  modern  history,  of  displaying  his  powers. 
The  austere  beauty  of  the  Athenian  portico,  the  gloomy  sub- 
limity of  the  Gothic  arcade,  he  was,  like  almost  all  his  con- 
temporaries, incapable  of  emulating,  and  perhaps  incapable  of 
appreciating :  but  no  man,  born  on  our  side  of  the  Alps,  has 
imitated  with  so  much  success  the  magnificence  of  the  pal- 
ace-like churches  of  Italy.  Even  the  superb  Lewis  has  left 
to  posterity  no  work  which  can  bear  a  comparison  with  Saint 
Paul's.  But  at  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Seconch 
there  was  not  a  single  English  painter  or  statuary  whose  name 
is  now  remembered.  This  sterility  is  somewhat  mysterious ; 
for  painters  and  statuaries  were  by  no  means  a  despised  or  an 
ill-paid  class.  Their  social  position  was  at  least  as  high  as  at 
present.  Their  gains,  when  compared  with  the  wealth  of  the 
nation  and  with  the  remuneration  of  other  descriptions  of  in- 
tellectual labor,  were  even  larger  than  at  present.  Indeed  the 
munificent  patronage  which  was  extended  to  artists  drew  them 
to  our  shores  in  multitudes.  Lely,  who  has  preserved  to  us 
the  rich  curls,  the  full  lips,  and  the  languishing  eyes  of  the 
frail  beauties  celebrated  by  Hamilton,  was  a  Westphalian.  He 
had  died  in  1680,  having  long  lived  splendidly,  having  received 
the  honor  of  knighthood,  and  having  accumulated  a  good  estate 
out  of  the  fruits  of  his  skill.  His  noble  collection  of  drawings 


380  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

and  pictures  was,  after  his  decease,  exhibited  by  the  royal  per- 
mission in  the  Banqueting-house  at  Whitehall,  and  was  sold 
by  auction  for  the  almost  incredible  sum  of  twenty-six  thou- 
sand pounds,  a  sum  which  bore  a  greater  proportion  to  the 
fortunes  of  the  rich  men  of  that  day  than  a  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds  would  bear  to  the  fortunes  of  the  rich  men  of 
our  time.*  Lety  was  succeeded  by  his  countryman  Godfrey 
Kneller,  who  was  made  first  a  knight  and  then  a  baronet, 
and  wrho,  after  keeping  up  a  sumptuous  establishment,  and 
after  losing  much  money  by  unlucky  speculations,  was  still 
able  to  bequeath  a  large  fortune  to  his  family.  The  two  Van- 
develdes,  natives  of  Holland,  had  been  tempted  by  English  lib- 
erality to  settle  here,  and  had  produced  for  the  King  and  his 
nobles  some  of  the  finest  sea-pieces  in  the  world.  Another 
Dutchman,  Simon  Yarelst,  painted  glorious  sunflowers  and 
tulips  for  prices  such  as  had  never  before  been  known.  Ver- 
rio,  a  Neapolitan,  covered  ceilings  and  staircases  with  Gor- 
gon s  and  Muses,  Nymphs  and  Satyrs,  Virtues  and  Vices,  Gods 
quaffing  nectar,  and  laurelled  princes  riding  in  triumph.  The 
income  which  he  derived  from  his  performances  enabled  him 
to  keep  one  of  the  most  expensive  tables  in  England.  For 
his  pieces  at  Windsor  alone  he  received  seven  thousand  pounds, 
a  sum  then  sufficient  to  make  a  gentleman  of  moderate  wishes 
perfectly  easy  for  life,  a  sum  greatly  exceeding  all  that  Dry- 
den,  during  a  literary  life  of  forty  years,  obtained  from  the 
booksellers.f  Verrio's  assistant  and  successor,  Lewis  Laguerre, 
came  from  France.  The  two  most  celebrated  sculptors  of 
that  day  were  also  foreigners.  Gibber,  whose  pathetic  em- 
blems of  Fury  and  Melancholy  still  adorn  Bedlam,  was  a 
Dane.  Gibbons,  to  whose  graceful  fancy  and  delicate  touch 
many  of  our  palaces,  colleges,  and  churches  owe  their  finest 
decorations,  was  a  Dutchman.  Even  the  designs  for  the  coin 
were  made  by  French  artists.  Indeed  it  was  not  till  the  reign 
of  George  the  Second  that  our  country  could  glory  in  a  great 

*  Walpole's  Anecdotes  of  Painting;  London  Gazette,  May  31,  1683;  North's 
Life  of  Guildford. 

f  The  great  prices  paid  to  Varelst  and  Verrio  are  mentioned  in  Walpole's  An- 
ecdotes of  Painting. 


CH.  III.  STATE   OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  381 

painter ;  and  George  the  Third  was  on  the  throne  before  she 
had  reason  to  be  proud  of  any  of  her  sculptors. 

It  is  time  that  this  description  of  the  England  which 
Charles  the  Second  governed  should  draw  to  a  close.  Yet 
one  subject  of  the  highest  moment  still  remains  untouched. 
Nothing  has  yet  been  said  of  the  great  body  of  the  people,  of 
those  who  held  the  ploughs,  who  tended  the  oxen,  who  toiled 
at  the  looms  of  Norwich,  and  squared  the  Portland  stone  for 
Saint  Paul's.  Nor  can  very  much  be  said.  The  most  numer- 
ous class  is  precisely  the  class  respecting  which  we  have  the 
most  meagre  information.  In  those  times  philanthropists  did 
not  yet  regard  it  as  a  sacred  duty,  nor  had  demagogues  yet 
found  it  a  lucrative  trade,  to  talk  and  write  about  the  distress 
of  the  laborer.  History  was  too  much  occupied  with  courts 
and  camps  to  spare  a  line  for  the  hut  of  the  peasant  or  the 
garret  of  the  mechanic.  The  press  now  often  sends  forth  in 
a  day  a  greater  quantity  of  discussion  and  declamation  about 
the  condition  of  the  working-man  than  was  published  during 
the  twenty-eight  years  which  elapsed  between  the  Restoration 
and  the  Revolution.  But  it  would  be  a  great  error  to  infer 
from  the  increase  of  complaint  that  there  has  been  any  in- 
crease of  misery. 

The  great  criterion  of  the  state  of  the  common  people  is 
the  amount  of  their  wages ;  and  as  four-fifths  of  the  common 
people  were,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  employed 
common  peo-  in  agriculture,  it  is  especially  important  to  ascer- 
tain what  were  then  the  wages  of  agricultural  in- 
dustry. On  this  subject  we  have  the  means  of  arriving  at 
conclusions  sufficiently  exact  for  our  purpose. 

Sir  William  Petty,  whose  mere  assertion  carries  great 
weight,  informs  us  that  a  laborer  was  by  no  means  in  the 
Agricultural  lowest  state  who  received  for  a  day's  work  four- 
wages,  pence  with  food,  or  eightpence  without  food. 
Four  shillings  a  week,  therefore,  were,  according  to  Petty's 
calculation,  fair  agricultural  wages.* 

That  this  calculation  was  not  remote  from  the  truth  we 

*  Petty's  Political  Arithmetic. 


382  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

have  abundant  proof.  About  the  beginning  of  the  year  1685 
the  justices  of  Warwickshire,  in  the  exercise  of  a  power  in- 
trusted to  them  by  an  act  of  Elizabeth,  fixed,  at  their  quar- 
ter-sessions, a  scale  of  wages  for  the  county,  and  notified  that 
every  employer  who  gave  more  than  the  authorized  sum,  and 
every  working-man  who  received  more,  would  be  liable  to 
punishment.  The  wages  of  the  common  agricultural  laborer, 
from  March  to  September,  were  fixed  at  the  precise  amount 
mentioned  by  Petty,  namely,  four  shillings  a  week  without 
food.  From  September  to  March  the  wages  were  to  be  only 
three-and-sixpence  a  week.* 

But  in  that  age,  as  in  ours,  the  earnings  of  the  peasants 
were  very  different  in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom.  The 
wages  of  Warwickshire  were  probably  about  the  average,  and 
those  of  the  counties  near  the  Scottish  border  below  it :  but 
there  were  more  favored  districts.  In  the  same  year,  1685,  a 
gentleman  of  Devonshire,  named  Richard  Dunning,  published 
a  small  tract,  in  which  he  described  the  condition  of  the  poor 
of  that  county.  That  he  understood  his  subject  well  it  is 
impossible  to  doubt;  for  a  few  months  later  his  work  was 
reprinted,  and  was,  by  the  magistrates  assembled  in  quarter- 
sessions  at  Exeter,  strongly  recommended  to  the  attention  of 
all  parochial  officers.  According  to  him,  the  wages  of  the 
Devonshire  peasant  were,  without  food,  about  five  shillings 
a  week.f 

Still  better  was  the  condition  of  the  laborer  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Bury  Saint  Edmund's.  The  magistrates  of  Suf- 
folk met  there  in  the  spring  of  1682  to  fix  a  rate  of  wages, 
and  resolved  that,  where  the  laborer  was  not  boarded,  he  should 
have  five  shillings  a  week  in  winter,  and  six  in  summer.:}: 

In  1661  the  justices  at  Chelmsford  had  fixed  the  wages  of 
the  Essex  laborer,  who  was  not  boarded,  at  six  shillings  in 
winter,  and  seven  in  summer.  This  seems  to  have  been  the 
highest  remuneration  given  in  the  kingdom  for  agricultural 

*  Stat.  5  Eliz.,  c.  4 ;  Archaeologia,  Vol.  XI. 

t  Plain  and  easy  Method  showing  how  the  office  of  Overseer  of  the  Poor  may 
be  managed,  by  Richard  Dunning;  1st  edition,  1685  ;  2d  edition,  1686. 
$  Cullum's  History  of  Hawsted. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  383 

labor  between  the  Restoration  and  the  Revolution ;  and  it  is 
to  be  observed  that,  in  the  year  in  which  this  order  was  made, 
the  necessaries  of  life  were  immoderately  dear.  Wheat  was 
at  seventy  shillings  the  quarter,  which  would  even  now  be 
considered  as  almost  a  famine  price.* 

These  facts  are  in  perfect  accordance  with  another  fact 
which  seems  to  deserve  consideration.  It  is  evident  that,  in 
a  country  where  no  man  can  be  compelled  to  become  a  soldier, 
the  ranks  of  an  army  cannot  be  filled  if  the  government  offers 
much  less  than  the  wages  of  common  rustic  labor.  At  pres- 
ent the  pay  and  beer-money  of  a  private  in  a  regiment  of  the 
line  amount  to  seven  shillings  and  sevenpence  a  week.  This 
stipend,  coupled  with  the  hope  of  a  pension,  does  not  attract 
the  English  youth  in  sufficient  numbers ;  and  it  is  found  nec- 
essary to  supply  the  deficiency  by  enlisting  largely  from 
among  the  poorer  population  of  Munster  and  Connaught. 
The  pay  of  the  private  foot-soldier  in  1685  was  only  four 
shillings  and  eightpence  a  week;  yet  it  is  certain  that  the 
government  in  that  year  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining 
many  thousands  of  English  recruits  at  very  short  notice. 
The  pay  of  the  private  foot-soldier  in  the  army  of  the  Com- 
monwealth had  been  seven  shillings  a  week,  that  is  to  say,  as 
much  as  a  corporal  received  under  Charles  the  Second  ;f  and 
seven  shillings  a  week  had  been  found  sufficient  to  fill  the 
ranks  with  men  decidedly  superior  to  the  generality  of  the 
people.  On  the  whole,  therefore,  it  seems  reasonable  to  con- 
clude that,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  the  ordinary 
wages  of  the  peasant  did  not  exceed  four  shillings  a  week ; 
but  that,  in  some  parts  of  the  kingdom,  five  shillings,  six 
shillings,  and,  during  the  summer  months,  even  seven  shillings 
were  paid.  At  present  a  district  where  a  laboring  man  earns 
only  seven  shillings  a  week  is  thought  to  be  in  a  state  shock- 
ing to  humanity.  The  average  is  very  much  higher :  and,  in 
prosperous  counties,  the  weekly  wages  of  husbandmen  amount 
to  twelve,  fourteen,  and  even  sixteen  shillings. 

*  Ruggles  on  the  Poor. 

f  See,  in  Thurloe's  State  Papers,  the  memorandum  of  the  Dutch  Deputies,  dated 
August  /ij,  1653. 


38-i  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  III. 

The  remuneration  of  workmen  employed  in  manufactures 
has  always  been  higher  than  that  of  the  tillers  of  the  soil. 
wa«esofman-  In  tne  Jear  I680)  a  member  of  the  House  of  Com- 
ufacturers.  m0ns  remarked  that  the  high  wages  paid  in  this 
country  made  it  impossible  for  our  textures  to  maintain  a  com- 
petition with  the  produce  of  the  Indian  looms.  An  Eng- 
lish mechanic,  he  said,  instead  of  slaving  like  a  native  of  Ben- 
gal for  a  piece  of  copper,  exacted  a  shilling  a  day.*  Other 
evidence  is  extant,  which  proves  that  a  shilling  a  day  was  the 
pay  to  which  the  English  manufacturer  then  thought  himself 
entitled,  but  that  he  was  often  forced  to  work  for  less.  The 
common  people  of  that  age  were  not  in  the  habit  of  meeting 
for  public  discussion,  of  haranguing,  or  of  petitioning  Parlia- 
ment. No  newspaper  pleaded  their  cause.  It  was  in  rude 
rhyme  that  their  love  and  hatred,  their  exultation  and  their 
distress  found  utterance.  A  great  part  of  their  history  is  to 
be  learned  only  from  their  ballads.  One  of  the  most  remark- 
able of  the  popular  lays  chanted  about  the  streets  of  Nor- 
wich and  Leeds  in  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second  may  still 
be  read  on  the  original  broadside.  It  is  the  vehement  and 
bitter  cry  of  labor  against  capital.  It  describes  the  good  old 
times  when  every  artisan  employed  in  the  woollen  manu- 
facture lived  as  well  as  a  farmer.  But  those  times  were  past. 
Sixpence  a  day  was  now  all  that  could  be  earned  by  hard 
labor  at  the  loom.  If  the  poor  complained  that  they  could  not 
live  on  such  a  pittance,  they  were  told  that  they  were  free 
to  take  it  or  leave  it.  For  so  miserable  a  recompense  were 
the  producers  of  wealth  compelled  to  toil,  rising  early  and 
lying  down  late,  while  the  master  clothier,  eating,  sleeping, 
and  idling,  became  rich  by  their  exertions.  A  shilling  a  day, 
the  poet  declares,  is  what  the  weaver  would  have,  if  justice 
were  done.f  We  may  therefore  conclude  that,  in  the  gener- 

*  The  orator  was  Mr.  John  Basset,  member  for  Barnstaple.  See  Smith's  Me- 
moirs of  Wool,  Chap.  Ixviii. 

f  This  ballad  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  precise  year  is  not  given ;  but  the 
Imprimatur  of  Roger  Lestrange  fixes  the  date  sufficiently  for  my  purpose.  I  will 
quote  some  of  the  lines.  The  master  clothier  is  introduced  speaking  as  follows : 

"  In  former  ages  we  used  to  give, 
So  that  our  workfolks  like  farmers  did  live  ; 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  385 

ation  which  preceded  the  Revolution,  a  workman  employed 
in  the  great  staple  manufacture  of  England  thought  himself 
fairly  paid  if  he  gained  six  shillings  a  week. 

It  may  here  be  noticed  that  the  practice  of  setting  children 
prematurely  to  work,  a  practice  which  the  state,  the  legiti- 
mate protector  of  those  who  cannot  protect  them- 

Labor  of  chil-  A  .  .  .  J  . 

dren  in  facto-  selves,  has,  in  our  time,  wisely  and  humanely  inter- 
dicted, prevailed  in  the  seventeenth  century  to  an 
extent  which,  when  compared  with  the  extent  of  the  manu- 
facturing system,  seems  almost  incredible.  At  Norwich,  the 
chief  seat  of  the  clothing  trade,  a  little  creature  of  six  years 
old  wras  thought  fit  for  labor.  Several  writers  of  that  time, 
and  among  them  some  who  were  considered  as  eminently 
benevolent,  mention,  with  exultation,  the  fact  that,  in  that 
single  city,  boys  and  girls  of  very  tender  age  created  wealth 
exceeding  what  was  necessary  for  their  own  subsistence  by 
twelve  thousand  pounds  a  year.*  The  more  carefully  we  ex- 
amine the  history  of  the  past,  the  more  reason  shall  we  find 
to  dissent  from  those  who  imagine  that  our  age  has  been  fruit- 
ful of  new  social  evils.  The  truth  is  that  the  evils  .are,  with 
scarcely  an  exception,  old.  That  which  is  new  is  the  intelli- 
gence which  discerns  and  the  humanity  which  remedies  them. 
When  we  pass  from  the  weavers  of  cloth  to  a  different 
class  of  artisans,  our  inquiries  will  still  lead  us  to 

Wages  of  dif-  ?  . 

ferent  classes    nearly  the  same  conclusions.     During  several  gen- 

of  artisans.  *  °  .  °, 

erations,  the  Commissioners  of  Greenwich  Hospital 
have  kept  a  register  of  the  wages  paid  to  different  classes  of 

But  the  times  are  changed,  we  will  make  them  know. 

******* 
"  We  will  make  them  to  work  hard  for  sixpence  a  day, 
Though  a  shilling  they  deserve  if  they  had  their  just  pay ; 
If  at  all  they  murmur  and  say  'tis  too  small, 
We  bid  them  choose  whether  they'll  work  at  all. 
And  thus  we  do  gain  all  our  wealth  and  estate, 
By  many  poor  men  that  work  early  and  late. 
Then  hey  for  the  clothing  trade !    It  goes  on  brave  ; 
We  scorn  for  to  toyl  and  moyl,  nor  yet  to  slave. 
Our  workmen  do  work  hard,  but  we  live  at  ease, 
We  go  when  we  will,  and  we  come  when  we  please." 

*  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England ;  Petty's  Political  Arithmetic,  Chap.  yiii. ; 
Dunning's  Plain  and  Easy  Method ;  Firmin's  Proposition  for  the  Employing  of  the 
Poor.  It  ought  to  be  observed  that  Firmin  was  an  eminent  philanthropist. 

I.— 25 


386  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

workmen  who  have  been  employed  in  the  repairs  of  the 
building.  From  this  valuable  record  it  appears  that,  in  the 
course  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  years,  the  daily  earnings  of 
the  bricklayer  have  risen  from  half  a  crown  to  four-and- 
tenpence,  those  of  the  mason  from  half  a  crown  to  fi  ve-and- 
threepence,  those  of  the  carpenter  from  half  a  crown  to  fi  ve- 
and-fivepence,  and  those  of  the  plumber  from  three  shillings 
to  five-and-sixpence. 

It  seems  clear,  therefore,  that  the  wages  of  labor,  estimated 
in  money,  were,  in  1685,  not  more  than  half  of  what  they  now 
are  ;  and  there  were  few  articles  important  to  the  working- 
man  of  which  the  price  was  not,  in  1685,  more  than  half  of 
what  it  now  is.  Beer  was  undoubtedly  much  cheaper  in  that 
age  than  at  present.  Meat  was  also  cheaper,  but  was  still  so 
dear  that  hundreds  of  thousands  of  families  scarcely  knew 
the  taste  of  it.*  In  the  cost  of  wheat  there  has  been  very 
little  change.  The  average  price  of  the  quarter,  during  the 
last  twelve  years  of  Charles  the  Second,  was  fifty  shillings. 
Bread,  therefore,  such  as  is  now  given  to  the  inmates  of  a 
workhouse,  was  then  seldom  seen,  even  on  the  trencher  of  a 
yeoman  or  of  a  shopkeeper.  The  great  majority  of  the  nation 
lived  almost  entirely  on  rye,  barley,  and  oats. 

The  produce  of  tropical  countries,  the  produce  of  the  mines, 
the  produce  of  machinery,  was  positively  dearer  than  at  present. 
Among  the  commodities  for  which  the  laborer  would  have  had 
S^,Q  pay  higher  in  1685  than  his  posterity  now  pay  were  sugar, 
salt,  coals,  candles,  soap,  shoes,  stockings,  and  generally  all  arti- 
cles of  clothing  and  all  articles  of  bedding.  It  may  be  added, 
that  the  old  coats  and  blankets  would  have  been,  not  only 
more  costly,  but  less  serviceable  than  the  modern  fabrics. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  those  laborers  who  were  able 
Number  of  *°  maintain  themselves  and  their  families  by  means 
paupers.  Qf  wages  were  not  the  most  necessitous  members 
of  the  community.  Beneath  them  lay  a  large  class  which 

*  King  in  his  Natural  and  Political  Conclusions  roughly  estimated  the  common 
people  of  England  at  880,000  families.  Of  these  families  440,000,  according  to 
him,  ate  animal  food  twice  a  week.  The  remaining  440,000  ate  it  not  at  all,  or  at 
most  not  oftener  than  once  a  week. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN   1685. 

could  not  subsist  without  some  aid  from  the  parish.  There  - 
can  hardly  be  a  more  important  test  of  the  condition  of  the 
common  people  than  the  ratio  which  this  class  bears  to  the 
whole  society.  At  present  the  men,  women,  and  children 
who  receive  relief  appear  from  the  official  returns  to  be,  in 
bad  years,  one -tenth  of  the  inhabitants  of  England,  and,  in  '/j  ^ 
good  years,  one  thirteenth.  Gregory  King  estimated  them  in 
his  time  at  about  a  fourth ;  and  this  estimate,  which  all  our 
respect  for  his  authority  will  scarcely  prevent  us  from  calling 
extravagant,  was  pronounced  by  Davenant  eminently  judi- 
cious. 

We  are  not  quite  without  the  means  of  forming  an  esti- 
mate for  ourselves.  The  poor-rate  was  undoubtedly  the  heav- 
iest tax  borne  by  our  ancestors  in  those  days.  It  was  com- 
puted, in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  at  near  seven  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  a  year,  much  more  than  the  produce 
either  of  the  excise  or  of  the  customs,  and  little  less  than  half 
the  entire  revenue  of  the  crown.  The  poor-rate  went  on  in- 
creasing rapidly,  and  appears  to  have  risen  in  a  short  time  to 
between  eight  and  nine  hundred  thousand  a  year,  that  is  to 
say,  to  one-sixth  of  what  it  now  is.  The  population  was  then 
less  than  a  third  of  what  it  now  is.  The  minimum  of  wages, 
estimated  in  money,  was  half  of  what  it  now  is ;  and  we  can 
therefore  hardly  suppose  that  the  average  allowance  made  to 
a  pauper  can  have  been  more  than  half  of  what  it  now  is. 
It  seems  to  follow  that  the  proportion  of  the  English  people 
which  received  parochial  relief  then  must  have  been  larger 
than  the  proportion  which  receives  relief  now.  It  is  good  to_ 
speak  on  such  questions  with  diffidence ;  but  it  has  certainly 
never  yet  been  proved  that  pauperism  was  a  less  heavy  bur- 
den or  a  less  serious  social  evil  during  the  last  quarter  of  the 
seventeenth  century  than  it  is  in  our  own  time.* 

*  Fourteenth  Report  of  the  Poor  Law  Commissioners,  Appendix  B,  No.  2,  Ap- 
pendix C,  No.  1, 1848.  Of  the  two  estimates  of  the  poor-rate  mentioned  in  the  text, 
one  was  formed  by  Arthur  Moore,  the  other,  some  years  later,  by  Richard  Dunning. 
Moore's  estimate  will  be  found  in  Davenant's  Essay  on  Ways  and  Means ;  Dun- 
ning's  in  Sir  Frederic  Eden's  valuable  work  on  the  poor.  King  and  Davenant  esti- 
mate the  paupers  and  beggars  in  1696  at  the  incredible  number  of  1,330,000,  out 


388  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

In  one  respect  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  progress  of  civ- 
ilization has  diminished  the  physical  comforts  of  a  portion  of 
the  poorest  class.  It  lias  already  been  mentioned  that,  before 
the  Revolution,  many  thousands  of  square  miles,  now  enclosed 
and  cultivated,  were  marsh,  forest,  and  heath.  Of  this  wild 
land  much  was,  by  law,  common,  and  much  of  what  was  not 
common  by  law  was  worth  so  little  that  the  proprietors  suf- 
fered it  to  be  common  in  fact.  In  such  a  tract,  squatters  and 
trespassers  were  tolerated  to  an  extent  now  unknown.  The 
peasant  who  dwelt  there  could,  at  little  or  no  charge,  procure 
occasionally  some  palatable  addition  to  his  hard  fare,  and  pro- 
vide himself  with  fuel  for  the  winter.  He  kept  a  flock  of 
geese  on  what  is  now  an  orchard  rich  with  apple  -  blossoms. 
He  snared  wild  fowl  on  the  fen  which  has  long  since  been 
drained  and  divided  into  corn-fields  and  turnip -fields.  He 
cut  turf  amono;  the  furze  bushes  on  the  moor  which  is  now 

o 

a  meadow  bright  with  clover  and  renowned  for  butter  and 
cheese.  The  progress  of  agriculture  and  the  increase  of  pop- 
ulation necessarily  deprived  him  of  these  privileges.  But 
against  this  disadvantage  a  long  list  of  advantages  is  to  be  set 
off.  Of  the  blessings  which  civilization  and  philosophy  bring 
Benefits  de-  with  them,  a  large  proportion  is  common  to  all 
common  ^  ranks,  and  would,  if  withdrawn,  be  missed  as  pain- 
proSoT  fullv  bv  tlie  laborer  as  by  the  peer.  The  market- 
civiiization.  place  which  the  rustic  can  now  reach  with  his  cart 
in  an  hour  was,  a  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago,  a  day's  journey 
from  him.  The  street  which  now  affords  to  the  artisan,  dur- 
ing the  whole  night,  a  secure,  a  convenient,  and  a  brilliantly 
lighted  walk  was,  a  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago,  so  dark  after 
sunset  that  he  would  not  have  been  able  to  see  his  hand,  so 
ill  paved  that  he  would  have  run  constant  risk  of  breaking 


of  a  population  of  5,500,000.  In  1846  the  number  of  persons  who  received  relief 
appears,  from  the  official  returns,  to  have  been  only  1,332,089,  out  of  a  population 
of  about  17,000,000.  It  ought  also  to  be  observed  that,  in  those  returns,  a  pauper 
must  very  often  be  reckoned  more  than  once. 

I  would  advise  the  reader  to  consult  De  Foe's  pamphlet  entitled  "  Giving  Alms 
no  Charity/'  and  the  Greenwich  tables  which  will  be  found  in  Mr.  M'Culloch's  Com- 
mercial Dictionary  under  the  head,  Prices. 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  389 

his  neck,  and  so  ill  watched  that  he  would  have  been  in  im- 
minent danger  of  being  knocked  down  and  plundered  of  his 
small  earnings.  Every  bricklayer  who  falls  from  a  scaffold, 
every  sweeper  of  a  crossing  who  is  run  over  by  a  carriage, 
may  now  have  his  wounds  dressed  and  his  limbs  set  with  a 
skill  such  as,  a  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago,  all  the  wealth  of 
a  great  lord  like  Ormond,  or  of  a  merchant-prince  like  Clay- 
ton, could  not  have  purchased.  Some  frightful  diseases  have 
been  extirpated  by  science ;  and  some  have  been  banished  by 
police.  The  term  of  human  life  had  been  lengthened  over 
the  whole  kingdom,  and  especially  in  the  towns.  The  year 
1685  was  not  accounted  sickly ;  yet  in  the  year  1685  more 
than  one  in  twenty-three  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital 
died.*  At  present  only  one  inhabitant  of  the  capital  in  forty 
dies  annually.  The  difference  in  salubrity  between  the  Lon- 
don of  the  nineteenth  century  and  the  London  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  is  very  far  greater  than  the  difference  between 
London  in  an  ordinary  year  and  London  in  a  year  of  cholera. 
Still  more  important  is  the  benefit  which  all  orders  of  so- 
ciety, and  especially  the  lower  orders,  have  derived  from  the 
mollifying  influence  of  civilization  on  the  national  character. 
The  groundwork  of  that  character  has  indeed  been  the  same 
through  many  generations,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  ground- 
work of  the  character  of  an  individual  may  be  said  to  be  the 
same  when  he  is  a  rude  and  thoughtless  school-boy  and  when 
he  is  a  refined  and  accomplished  man.  It  is  pleasing  to  re- 
flect that  the  public  mind  of  England  has  softened  while  it 
has  ripened,  and  that  we  have,  in  the  course  of  ages,  become 
not  only  a  wiser,  but  also  a  kinder  people.  There  is  scarcely 
a  page  of  the  history  or  lighter  literature  of  the  seventeenth 
century  which  does  not  contain  some  proof  that  our  ancestors 
were  less  humane  than  their  posterity.  The  discipline  of 
workshops,  of  schools,  of  private  families,  though  not  more 
efficient  than  at  present,  was  infinitely  harsher.  Masters,  well 
born  and  bred,  were  in  the  habit  of  beating  their  servants. 
Pedagogues  knew  no  way  of  imparting  knowledge  but  by 

*  The  deaths  were  23,222. — Petty's  Political  Arithmetic. 


390  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  HI. 

beating  their  pupils.  Husbands,  of  decent  station,  were  not 
ashamed  to  beat  their  wives.  The  implacability  of  hostile 
factions  was  such  as  we  can  scarcely  conceive.  "Whigs  were 
disposed  to  murmur  because  Stafford  was  suffered  to  die  with- 
out seeing  his  bowels  burned  before  his  face.  Tories  reviled 
and  insulted  Russell  as  his  coach  passed  from  the  Tower  to 
the  scaffold  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.*  As  little  mercy  was 
shown  by  the  populace  to  sufferers  of  a  humbler  rank.  If  an 
offender  was  put  into  the  pillory,  it  was  well  if  he  escaped 
with  life  from  the  shower  of  brick-bats  and  paving-stones.f 
If  he  was  tied  to  the  cart's  tail,  the  crowd  pressed  round  him, 
imploring  the  hangman  to  give  it  the  fellow  well,  and  make 
him  how!4  Gentlemen  arranged  parties  of  pleasure  to  Bride- 
well on  court  days,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the  wretched 
women  who  beat  hemp  there  whipped.§  A  man  pressed  to 
death  for  refusing  to  plead,  a  woman  burned  for  coining,  ex- 
cited less  sympathy  than  is  now  felt  for  a  galled  horse  or  an 
overdriven  ox.  Fights  compared  with  which  a  boxing-match 
is  a  refined  and  humane  spectacle  were  among  the  favorite 
diversions  of  a  large  part  of  the  town.  Multitudes  assembled 
to  see  gladiators  hack  each  other  to  pieces  with  deadly  weap- 
ons, and  shouted  with  delight  when  one  of  the  combatants 
lost  a  linger  or  an  eye.  The  prisons  were  hells  on  earth,  sem- 
inaries of  every  crime  and  of  every  disease.  At  the  assizes 
the  lean  and  yellow  culprits  brought  with  them  from  their 
cells  to  the  dock  an  atmosphere  of  stench  and  pestilence 
which  sometimes  avenged  them  signally  on  bench,  bar,  and 
jury.  But  on  all  this  misery  society  looked  with  profound 
indifference.  Nowhere  could  be  found  that  sensitive  and 
restless  compassion  which  has,  in  our  time,  extended  a  power- 
ful protection  to  the  factory  child,  to  the  Hindoo  widow,  to 
the  negro  slave,  which  pries  into  the  stores  and  water-casks  of 
every  emigrant  ship,  which  winces  at  every  lash  laid  on  the 
back  of  a  drunken  soldier,  which  will  not  suffer  the  thief  in 
the  hulks  to  be  ill  fed  or  overworked,  and  wThich  has  repeat- 

*  Burnet,  i.,  660.  f  Muggleton's  Acts  of  the  Witnesses  of  the  Spirit. 

|  Tom  Brown  describes  such  a  scene  in  lines  which  I  do  not  venture  to  quote. 
§  Ward's  London  Spy. 


a'te  the° 


CH.  III.  STATE  OF  ENGLAND  IN  1685.  391 

edly  endeavored  to  save  the  life  even  of  the  murderer.  It  is 
true  that  compassion  ought,  like  all  other  feelings,  to  be  un- 
der the  government  of  reason,  and  has,  for  want  of  such  gov- 
ernment, produced  some  ridiculous  and  some  deplorable  ef- 
fects.  But  the  more  we  study  the  annals  of  the  past,  the 
more  shall  we  rejoice  that  we  live  in  a  merciful  age)  in  an  age 
in  which  cruelty  is  abhorred,  and  in  which  pain,  even  when 
deserved,  is  inflicted  reluctantly  and  from  a  sense  of  duty. 
Every  class  doubtless  has  gained  largely  by  this  great  moral 
change  :  but  the  class  which  has  gained  most  is  the  poorest, 
the  most  dependent,  and  the  most  defenceless. 

The  general  effect  of  the  evidence  which  has  been  submit- 
ted to  the  reader  seems  hardly  to  admit  of  doubt.  Yet,  in 
spite  of  evidence,  many  will  still  image  to  them- 
selves  the  England  of  the  Stuarts  as  a  more  pleas- 
precpJ"iiiSg  °f  an*  country  than  the  England  in  which  we  live. 
generations.  j£  mav  a^  fi^  gjghf;  seem  strange  that  society,  while 

constantly  moving  forward  with  eager  speed,  should  be  con- 
stantly looking  backward  with  tender  regret.  But  these  two 
propensities,  inconsistent  as  they  may  appear,  can  easily  be 
resolved  into  the  same  principle.  Both  spring  from  our  im- 
patience of  the  state  in  which  we  actually  are.  That  impa- 
tience, while  it  stimulates  us  to  surpass  preceding  generations, 
disposes  us  to  overrate  their  happiness.  It  is,  in  some  sense, 
unreasonable  and  ungrateful  in  us  to  be  constantly  discon- 
tented with  a  condition  which  is  constantly  improving.  But, 
in  truth,  there  is  constant  improvement  precisely  because 
there  is  constant  discontent.  If  we  were  perfectly  satisfied 
with  the  present,  we  should  cease  to  contrive,  to  labor,  and  to 
save  with  a  view  to  the  future.  And  it  is  natural  that,  being 
dissatisfied  with  the  present,  we  should  form  a  too  favorable 
estimate  of  the  past. 

In  truth  we  are  under  a  deception  similar  to  that  which 
misleads  the  traveller  in  the  Arabian  desert.  Beneath  the 
caravan  all  is  dry  and  bare;  but  far  in  advance,  and  far  in 
the  rear,  is  the  semblance  of  refreshing  waters.  The  pilgrims 
hasten  forward  and  find  nothing  but  sand  where,  an  hour 
before,  they  had  seen  a  lake.  They  turn  their  eyes  and  see  a 


392  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  III. 

lake  where,  an  hour  before,  they  were  toiling  through  sand. 
A  similar  illusion  seems  to  haunt  nations  through  every  stage 
of  the  long  progress  from  poverty  and  barbarism  to  the  high- 
est degrees  of  opulence  and  civilization.  But,  if  we  resolutely 
chase  the  mirage  backward,  we  shall  find  it  recede  before  us 
into  the  regions  of  fabulous  antiquity.  It  is  now  the  fashion 
to  place  the  Golden  Age  of  England  in  times  when  noblemen 
were  destitute  of  comforts  the  want  of  which  would  be  intol- 
erable to  a  modern  footman,  when  farmers  and  shopkeepers 
breakfasted  on  loaves  the  very  sight  of  which  would  raise  a 
riot  in  a  modern  workhouse,  when  to  have  a  clean  shirt  once 
a  week  was  a  privilege  reserved  for  the  higher  class  of  gentry, 
when  men  died  faster  in  the  purest  country  air  than  they  now 
die  in  the  most  pestilential  lanes  of  our  towns,  and  when  men 
died  faster  in  the  lanes  of  our  towns  than  they  now  die  on 
the  coast  of  Guiana.  We  too  shall,  in  our  turn,  be  outstripped, 
and  in  our  turn  be  envied.  It  may  well  be,  in  the  twentieth 
century,  that  the  peasant  of  Dorsetshire  may  think  himself 
miserably  paid  with  twenty  shillings  a  week ;  that  the  car- 
penter at  Greenwich  may  receive  ten  shillings  a  day;  that 
laboring  men  may  be  as  little  used  to  dine  without  meat  as 
they  now  are  to  eat  rye-bread ;  that  sanitary  police  and  med- 
ical discoveries  may  have  added  several  more  years  to  the 
average  length  of  human  life ;  that  numerous  comforts  and 
luxuries  which  are  now  unknown,  or  confined  to  a  few,  may 
be  within  the  reach  of  every  diligent  and  thrifty  working- 
man.  And  yet  it  may  then  be  the  mode  to  assert  that  the 
increase  of  wealth  and  the  progress  of  science  have  benefited 
the  few  at  the  expense  of  the  many,  and  to  talk  of  the  reign 
of  Queen  Victoria  as  the  time  when  England  was  truly  merry 
England,  when  all  classes  were  bound  together  by  brotherly 
sympathy,  when  the  rich  did  not  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor, 
and  when  the  poor  did  not  envy  the  splendor  of  the  rich. 


1685.  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  393 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  death  of  King  Charles  the  Second  took  the  nation  by 
surprise.  His  frame  was  naturally  strong,  and  did  not  appear 
1685  to  have  suffered  from  excess.  He  had  always  been 

Death  of  mindful  of  his  health  even  in  his  pleasures ;  and  his 
habits  wrere  such  as  promise  a  long  life  and  a  robust 
old  age.  Indolent  as  he  was  on  all  occasions  which  required 
tension  of  the  mind,  he  was  active  and  persevering  in  bodily 
exercise.  He  had,  when  young,  been  renowned  as  a  tennis- 
player,*  and  was,  even  in  the  decline  of  life,  an  indefatigable 
walker.  His  ordinary  pace  was  such  that  those  who  were 
admitted  to  the  honor  of  his  society  found  it  difficult  to  keep 
up  with  him.  He  rose  early,  and  generally  passed  three  or 
four  hours  a  day  in  the  open  air.  He  might  be  seen,  before 
the  dew  was  off  the  grass  in  Saint  James's  Park,  striding 
among  the  trees,  playing  with  his  spaniels,  and  flinging  corn 
to  his  ducks ;  and  these  exhibitions  endeared  him  to  the  com- 
mon people,  who  always  love  to  see  the  great  unbend.f 

At  length,  toward  the  close  of  the  year  1684,  he  wras  pre- 
vented, by  a  slight  attack  of  what  was  supposed  to  be  gout, 
from  rambling  as  usual.  He  now  spent  his  mornings  in  his 
laboratory,  where  he  amused  himself  with  experiments  on  the 
properties  of  mercury.  His  temper  seemed  to  have  suffered 
from  confinement.  He  had  no  apparent  cause  for  disquiet. 
His  kingdom  was  tranquil ;  he  was  not  in  pressing  want  of 
money ;  his  power  was  greater  than  it  had  ever  been ;  the 
party  which  had  long  thwarted  him  had  been  beaten  dowTii ; 
but  the  cheerfulness  which  had  supported  him  against  adverse 
fortune  had  vanished  in  this  season  of  prosperity.  A  trifle 

*  Pepys's  Diary,  Dec.  28,  1663,  Sept.  2,  1667. 

f  Bui-net,  i.,  606;  Spectator,  No.  462;  Lords'  Journals,  Oct.  28,1678;  Gibber's 
Apology. 


394  HISTORY  OF   ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

r 

now  sufficed  to  depress  those  elastic  spirits  which  had  borne 
up  against  defeat,  exile,  and  penury.  His  irritation  fre- 
quently showed  itself  by  looks  and  words  such  as  could  hardly 
have  been  expected  from  a  man  so  eminently  distinguished 
by  good -humor  and  good -breeding.  It  was  not  supposed, 
however,  that  his  constitution  was  seriously  impaired.* 

His  palace  had  seldom  presented  a  gayer  or  a  more  scandal- 
ous appearance  than  on  the  evening  of  Sunday,  the  first  of 
February,  1685.f  Some  grave  persons  who  had  gone  thither, 
after  the  fashion  of  that  age,  to  pay  their  duty  to  their  sov- 
ereign, and  who  had  expected  that,  on  such  a  day,  his  court 
would  wear  a  decent  aspect,  were  struck  with  astonishment 
and  horror.  The  great  gallery  of  Whitehall,  an  admirable 
relic  of  the  magnificence  of  the  Tudors,  was  crowded  with 
revellers  and  gamblers.  The  King  sat  there  chatting  and 
toying  with  three  women,  whose  charms  were  the  boast,  and 
whose  vices  were  the  disgrace,  of  three  nations.  Barbara 
Palmer,  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  was  there,  no  longer  young, 
but  still  retaining  some  traces  of  that  superb  and  voluptuous 
loveliness  which  twenty  years  before  overcame  the  hearts  of 
all  men.  There  too  was  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  whose 
soft  and  infantine  features  were  lighted  up  with  the  vivacity 
of  France.  Hortensia  Mancini,  Duchess  of  Mazarin,  and 
niece  of  the  great  Cardinal,  completed  the  group.  She  had 
been  early  removed  from  her  native  Italy  to  the  court  where 
her  uncle  was  supreme.  His  power  and  her  own  attractions 
had  drawn  a  crowd  of  illustrious  suitors  round  her.  Charles 
himself,  during  his  exile,  had  sought  her  hand  in  vain.  No 
gift  of  nature  or  of  fortune  seemed  to  be  wanting  to  her. 
Her  face  was  beautiful  with  the  rich  beauty  of  the  South,  her 
understanding  quick,  her  manners  graceful,  her  rank  exalted, 
her  possessions  immense ;  but  her  ungovernable  passions  had 
turned  all  these  blessings  into  curses.  She  had  found  the 
misery  of  an  ill-assorted  marriage  intolerable,  had  fled  from 

*  Burnet,  i.,  605,  606;  Welwood;  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  251. 

f  I  may  take  this  opportunity  of  mentioning  that  whenever  I  give  only  one  date, 
I  follow  the  old  style,  which  was,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  the  style  of  England ; 
but  I  reckon  the  year  from  the  first  of  January. 


1685.  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  395 

her  husband,  had  abandoned  her  vast  wealth,  and,  after  hav- 
ing astonished  Rome  and  Piedmont  by  her  adventures,  had 
fixed  her  abode  in  England.  Her  house  was  the  favorite  re- 
sort of  men  of  wit  and  pleasure,  who,  for  the  sake  of  her 
smiles  and  her  table,  endured  her  frequent  fits  of  insolence 
and  ill  humor.  Rochester  and  Godolphin  sometimes  forgot 
the  cares  of  state  in  her  company.  Barillon  and  Saint  Evre- 
mond  found  in  her  drawing-room  consolation  for  their  long 
banishment  from  Paris.  The  learning  of  Vossius,  the  wit  of 
Waller,  were  daily  employed  to  flatter  and  amuse  her.  But 
her  diseased  mind  required  stronger  stimulants,  and  sought 
them  in  gallantry,  in  basset,  and  in  usquebaugh.*  While 
Charles  flirted  with  his  three  sultanas,  Hortensia's  French 
page,  a  handsome  boy,  whose  vocal  performances  \vere  the 
delight  of  Whitehall,  and  were  rewarded  by  numerous  pres- 
ents of  rich  clothes,  ponies,  and  guineas,  warbled  some  amo- 
rous verses.f  A  party  of  twenty  courtiers  was  seated  at  cards 
round  a  large  table  on  which  gold  was  heaped  in  mountains.^ 
Even  then  the  King  had  complained  that  he  did  not  feel 
quite  well.  He  had  no  appetite  for  his  supper :  his  rest  that 
night  was  broken ;  but  on  the  following  morning  he  rose,  as 
usual,  early. 

To  that  morning  the  contending  factions  in  his  council  had, 
during  some  days,  looked  forward  with  anxiety.  The  strug- 
gle between  Halifax  and  Rochester  seemed  to  be  approaching 
a  decisive  crisis.  Halifax,  not  content  with  having  already 
driven  his  rival  from  the  Board  of  Treasury,  had  undertaken 
to  prove  him  guilty  of  such  dishonesty  or  neglect  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  finances  as  ought  to  be  punished  by  dismission 
from  the  public  service.  It  was  even  whispered  that  the 
Lord  President  would  probably  be  sent  to  the  Tower.  The 
King  had  promised  to  inquire  into  the  matter.  The  second 
of  February  had  been  fixed  for  the  investigation  ;  and  several 
officers  of  the  revenue  had  been  ordered  to  attend  with  their 

*  Saint  Evremond, passim  ;  Saint  Real,  Memoires  de  la  Duchesse  dc  Mazarin; 
Rochester's  Farewell ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  Sept.  6, 1676,  June  11, 1699. 
•f-  Evelyn's  Diary,  Jan.  28,  168|;  Saint  Evremond's  Letter  to  Dery. 
\  Evelyn's  Diary,  Feb.  4,  168$. 


396  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

books  on  that  day.*  But  a  great  turn  of  fortune  was  at 
hand. 

Scarcely  had  Charles  risen  from  his  bed  when  his  attend- 
ants perceived  that  his  utterance  was  indistinct,  and  that  his 
thoughts  seemed  to  be  wandering.  Several  men  of  rank  had, 
as  usual,  assembled  to  see  their  sovereign  shaved  and  dressed. 
He  made  an  effort  to  converse  with  them  in  his  usual  gay 
style;  but  his  ghastly  look  surprised  and  alarmed  them. 
Soon  his  face  grew  black ;  his  eyes  turned  in  his  head ;  he 
uttered  a  cry,  staggered,  and  fell  into  the  arms  of  one  of  his 
lords.  A  physician  who  had  charge  of  the  royal  retorts  and 
crucibles  happened  to  be  present.  He  had  no  lancet ;  but  he 
opened  a  vein  with  a  penknife.  The  blood  flowed  freely; 
but  the  King  was  still  insensible. 

He  was  laid  on  his  bed,  where,  during  a  short  time,  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  hung  over  him  with  the  familiarity 
of  a  wife.  But  the  alarm  had  been  given.  The  Queen  and 
the  Duchess  of  York  were  hastening  to  the  room.  The  fa- 
vorite concubine  was  forced  to  retire  to  her  own  apartments. 
Those  apartments  had  been  thrice  pulled  down  and  thrice 
rebuilt  by  her  lover  to  gratify  her  caprice.  The  very  furni- 
ture of  the  chimney  was  massy  silver.  Several  fine  paintings, 
which  properly  belonged  to  the  Queen,  had  been  transferred 
to  the  dwelling  of  the  mistress.  The  sideboards  were  piled 
with  richly  wrought  plate.  In  the  niches  stood  cabinets,  the 
masterpieces  of  Japanese  art.  On  the  hangings,  fresh  from 
the  looms  of  Paris,  were  depicted,  in  tints  which  no  English 
tapestry  could  rival,  birds  of  gorgeous  plumage,  landscapes, 
hunting -matches,  the  lordly  terrace  of  Saint  Germains,  the 
statues  and  fountains  of  Versailles,  f  In  the  midst  of  this 
splendor,  purchased  by  guilt  and  shame,  the  unhappy  woman 
gave  herself  up  to  an  agony  of  grief,  which,  to  do  her  justice, 
was  not  wholly  selfish. 

And  now  the  gates  of  Whitehall,  which  ordinarily  stood 

*  Roger  North's  Life  of  Sir  Dudley  North,  170  ;  The  True  Patriot  Vindicated,  or 
a  Justification  of  his  Excellency  the  E of  R ;  Buraet,  i.,  605.  The  Treas- 
ury Books  prove  that  Burnet  had  good  intelligence. 

t  Evelyn's  Diary,  Jan.  24,  168£,  Oct.  4,  1683. 


1685.  CHAKLES  THE   SECOND.  397 

open  to  all  comers,  were  closed.  But  persons  whose  faces 
were  known  were  still  permitted  to  enter.  The  antecham- 
bers and  galleries  were  soon  filled  to  overflowing ;  and  even 
the  sick-room  was  crowded  with  peers,  privy  councillors,  and 
foreign  ministers.  All  the  medical  men  of  note  in  London 
were  summoned.  So  high  did  political  animosities  run  that 
the  presence  of  some  Whig  physicians  was  regarded  as  an 
extraordinary  circumstance.*  One  Roman  Catholic  whose 
skill  was  then  widely  renowned,  Doctor  Thomas  Short,  was 
in  attendance.  Several  of  the  prescriptions  have  been  pre- 
served. One  of  them  is  signed  by  fourteen  doctors.  The 
patient  was  bled  largely.  Hot  iron  was  applied  to  his  head. 
A  loathsome  volatile  salt,  extracted  from  human  skulls,  was 
forced  into  his  mouth.  He  recovered  his  senses ;  but  he  was 
evidently  in  a  situation  of  extreme  danger. 

The  Queen  was  for  a  time  assiduous  in  her  attendance. 
The  Duke  of  York  scarcely  left  his  brother's  bedside.  The 
Primate  and  four  other  Bishops  were  then  in  London.  They 
remained  at  Whitehall  all  day,  and  took  it  by  turns  to  sit  up 
at  night  in  the  King's  room.  The  news  of  his  illness  filled 
the  capital  with  sorrow  and  dismay.  For  his  easy  temper  and 
affable  manners  had  won  the  affection  of  a  large  part  of  the 
nation ;  and  those  who  most  disliked  him  preferred  his  unprin- 
cipled levity  to  the  stern  and  earnest  bigotry  of  his  brother. 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  fifth  of  February,  the 
London  Gazette  announced  that  His  Majesty  was  going  on 
well,  and  was  thought  by  the  physicians  to  be  out  of  danger. 
The  bells  of  all  the  churches  rang  merrily ;  and  preparations 
for  bonfires  were  made  in  the  streets.  But  in  the  evening  it 
was  known  that  a  relapse  had  taken  place,  and  that  the  medi- 
cal attendants  had  given  up  all  hope.  The  public  mind  was 
greatly  disturbed;  but  there  was  no  disposition  to  tumult. 
The  Duke  of  York,  who  had  already  taken  on  himself  to 
give  orders,  ascertained  that  the  City  was  perfectly  quiet,  and 
that  he  might  without  difficulty  be  proclaimed  as  soon  as  his 
brother  should  expire. 

*  Dugdale's  Correspondence. 


398  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

The  King  was  in  great  pain,  and  complained  that  he  felt  as 
if  a  lire  was  burning  within  him.  Yet  he  bore  up  against  his 
sufferings  with  a  fortitude  which  did  not  seem  to  belong  to 
his  soft  and  luxurious  nature.  The  sight  of  his  misery  af- 
fected his  wife  so  much  that  she  fainted,  and  was  carried  sense- 
less to  her  chamber.  The  prelates  who  were  in  waiting  had 
from  the  first  exhorted  him  to  prepare  for  his  end.  They 
now  thought  it  their  duty  to  address  him  in  a  still  more  ur- 
gent manner.  William  Bancroft,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
an  honest  and  pious,  though  narrow-minded,  man,  used  great 
freedom.  "  It  is  time,"  he  said,  "  to  speak  out ;  for,  sir,  you 
are  about  to  appear  before  a  Judge  who  is  no  respecter  of 
persons."  The  King  answered  not  a  word. 

Thomas  Ken,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  then  tried  his 
powers  of  persuasion.  He  was  a  man  of  parts  and  learn- 
ing, of  quick  sensibility  and  stainless  virtue.  His  elaborate 
works  have  long  been  forgotten ;  but  his  morning  and  even- 
ing hymns  are  still  repeated  daily  in  thousands  of  dwellings. 
Though,  like  most  of  his  order,  zealous  for  monarchy,  he  was 
no  sycophant.  Before  he  became  a  bishop,  he  had  maintained 
the  honor  of  his  gown  by  refusing,  when  the  court  was  at  Win- 
chester, to  let  Eleanor  Gwynn  lodge  in  the  house  which  he  oc- 
cupied there  as  a  prebendary.*  The  King  had  sense  enough 
to  respect  so  manly  a  spirit.  Of  all  the  prelates  he  liked  Ken 
the  best.  It  was  to  no  purpose,  however,  that  the  good  bishop 
now  put  forth  all  his  eloquence.  His  solemn  and  pathetic 
exhortation  awed  and  melted  the  by-standers  to  such  a  degree 
that  some  among  them  believed  him  to  be  filled  with  the 
same  spirit  which,  in  the  old  time,  had,  by  the  mouths  of  Na- 
than and  Elias,  called  sinful  princes  to  repentance.  Charles, 
however,  was  unmoved.  He  made  no  objection,  indeed,  when 
the  service  for  the  Yisitation  of  the  Sick  was  read.  In  reply 
to  the  pressing  questions  of  the  divines,  he  said  that  he  was 
sorry  for  what  he  had  done  amiss ;  and  he  suffered  the  abso- 
lution to  be  pronounced  over  him  according  to  the  forms  of 
the  Church  of  England :  but,  when  he  was  urged  to  declare 

*  Hawkins's  Life  of  Ken,  1713. 


1685.  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  399 

that  he  died  in  the  communion  of  that  Church,  he  seemed 
not  to  hear  what  was  said ;  and  nothing  could  induce  him  to 
take  the  Eucharist  from  the  hands  of  the  Bishops.  A  table 
with  bread  and  wine  was  brought  to  his  bedside,  but  in  vain. 
Sometimes  he  said  that  there  was  no  hurry,  and  sometimes 
that  he  was  too  weak. 

Many  attributed  this  apathy  to  contempt  for  divine  things, 
and  many  to  the  stupor  which  often  precedes  death.  But 
there  were  in  the  palace  a  few  persons  who  knew  better. 
Charles  had  never  been  a  sincere  member  of  the  Established 
Church.  His  mind  had  long  oscillated  between  Hobbism  and 
Popery.  When  his  health  was  good  and  his  spirits  high,  he 
was  a  scoffer.  In  his  few  serious  moments  he  was  a  Roman 
Catholic.  The  Duke  of  York  was  aware  of  this,  but  was  en- 
tirely occupied  with  the  care  of  his  own  interests.  He  had 
ordered  the  outports  to  be  closed.  He  had  posted  detach- 
ments of  the  Guards  in  different  parts  of  the  City.  He  had  • 
also  procured  the  feeble  signature  of  the  dying  King  to  an 
instrument  by  which  some  duties,  granted  only  till  the  demise 
of  the  Crown,  were  let  to  farm  for  a  term  of  three  years. 
These  things  occupied  the  attention  of  James  to  such  a  de- 
gree that,  though,  on  ordinary  occasions,  he  was  indiscreetly 
and  unseasonably  eager  to  bring  over  proselytes  to  his  Church, 
he  never  reflected  that  his  brother  was  in  danger  of  dying 
without  the  last  sacraments.  This  neglect  was  the  more  ex- 
traordinary because  the  Duchess  of  York  had,  at  the  request 
of  the  Queen,  suggested,  on  the  morning  on  which  the  King 
was  taken  ill,  the  propriety  of  procuring  spiritual  assistance. 
For  such  assistance  Charles  was  at  last  indebted  to  an  agency 
very  different  from  that  of  his  pious  wife  and  sister-in-law. 
A  life  of  frivolity  and  vice  had  not  extinguished  in  the  Duch- 
ess of  Portsmouth  all  sentiments  of  religion,  or  all  that  kind- 
ness which  is  the  glory  of  her  sex.  The  French  ambassador 
Barillon,  who  had  come  to  the  palace  to  inquire  after  the 
King,  paid  her  a  visit.  He  found  her  in  an  agony  of  sorrow. 
She  took  him  into  a  secret  room,  and  poured  out  her  whole 
heart  to  him.  "  I  have,"  she  said,  "  a  thing  of  great  moment 
to  tell  you.  If  it  were  known,  my  head  would  be  in  danger. 


4:00  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cir.  IV. 

The  King  is  really  and  truly  a  Catholic ;  but  he  will  die  with- 
out being  reconciled  to  the  Church.  His  bedchamber  is  full 
of  Protestant  clergymen.  I  cannot  enter  it  without  giving 
scandal.  The  Duke  is  thinking  only  of  himself.  Speak  to 
him.  Remind  him  that  there  is  a  soul  at  stake.  He  is  mas- 
ter now.  He  can  clear  the  room.  Go  this  instant,  or  it  will 
be  too  late." 

Barillon  hastened  to  the  bedchamber,  took  the  Duke  aside, 
and  delivered  the  message  of  the  mistress.  The  conscience 
of  James  smote  him.  He  started  as  if  roused  from  sleep, 
and  declared  that  nothing  should  prevent  him  from  discharg- 
ing the  sacred  duty  which  had  been  too  long  delayed.  Sev- 
eral schemes  were  discussed  and  rejected.  At  last  the  Duke 
commanded  the  crowd  to  stand  aloof,  went  to  the  bed,  stooped 
down,  and  whispered  something  which  none  of  the  spectators 
could  hear,  but  which  they  supposed  to  be  some  question  about 
affairs  of  state.  Charles  answered  in  an  audible  voice,  "  Yes, 
yes,  with  all  my  heart."  None  of  the  by-standers,  except  the 
French  ambassador,  guessed  that  the  King  was  declaring  his 
wish  to  be  admitted  into  the  bosom  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

"  Shall  I  bring  a  priest  3"  said  the  Duke.  "  Do,  brother," 
replied  the  sick  man.  "  For  God's  sake  do,  and  lose  no  time. 
But  no;  you  will  get  into  trouble."  "If  it  costs  me  my 
life,"  said  the  Duke,  "  I  will  fetch  a  priest." 

To  find  a  priest,  however,  for  such  a  purpose,  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice,  was  not  easy.  For,  as  the  law  then  stood,  the 
person  who  admitted  a  proselyte  into  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church  was  guilty  of  a  capital  crime.  The  Count  of  Cas- 
tel  Melhor,  a  Portuguese  nobleman,  who,  driven  by  political 
troubles  from  his  native  land,  had  been  hospitably  received  at 
the  English  court,  undertook  to  procure  a  confessor.  He  had 
recourse  to  his  countrymen  who  belonged  to  the  Queen's 
household ;  but  he  found  that  none  of  her  chaplains  knew 
English  or  French  enough  to  shrive  the  King.  The  Duke 
and  Barillon  were  about  to  send  to  the  Venetian  minister  for 
a  clergyman,  when  they  heard  that  a  Benedictine  monk, 
named  John  Huddleston,  happened  to  be  at  Whitehall.  This 
man  had,  with  great  risk  to  himself,  saved  the  King's  life  af- 


1685.  CHAELES  THE  SECOND.  401 

ter  the  battle  of  Worcester,  and  had,  on  that  account,  been, 
ever  since  the  Restoration,  a  privileged  person.  In  the  sharp- 
est proclamations  which  had  been  put  forth  against  Popish 
priests,  when  false  witnesses  had  inflamed  the  nation  to  fury, 
Huddleston  had  been  excepted  by  name.*  He  readily  con- 
sented to  put  his  life  a  second  time  in  peril  for  his  prince ; 
but  there  was  still  a  difficulty.  The  honest  monk  was  so  il- 
literate that  he  did  not  know  what  he  ought  to  say  on  an  oc- 
casion of  such  importance.  He,  however,  obtained  some  hints, 
through  the  intervention  of  Castel  Melhor,  from  a  Portuguese 
ecclesiastic,  and,  thus  instructed,  was  brought  up  the  back 
stairs  by  Chiffinch,  a  confidential  servant,  who,  if  the  satires 
of  that  age  are  to  be  credited,  had  often  introduced  visitors 
of  a  very  different  description  by  the  same  entrance.  The 
Duke  then,  in  the  King's  name,  commanded  all  who  were 
present  to  quit  the  room,  except  Lewis  Duras,  Earl  of  Fev- 
ersham,  and  John  Granville,  Earl  of  Bath.  Both  these  Lords 
professed  the  Protestant  religion ;  but  James  conceived  that 
he  could  count  on  their  fidelity.  Feversham,  a  Frenchman  of 
noble  birth,  and  nephew  of  the  great  Turenne,  held  high  rank 
in  the  English  army,  and  was  Chamberlain  to  the  Queen. 
Bath  was  Groom  of  the  Stole. 

The  Duke's  orders  were  obeyed  ;  and  even  the  physicians 
withdrew.  The  back  door  was  then  opened;  and  Father 
Huddleston  entered.  A  cloak  had  been  thrown  over  his  sa- 
cred vestments ;  and  his  shaven  crown  was  concealed  by  a 
flowing  wig.  "  Sir,"  said  the  Duke,  "  this  good  man  once 
saved  your  life.  He  now  comes  to  save  your  soul."  Charles 
faintly  answered,  "  He  is  welcome."  Huddleston  went 
through  his  part  better  than  had  been  expected.  He  knelt 
by  the  bed,  listened  to  the  confession,  pronounced  the  abso- 
lution, and  administered  extreme  unction.  He  asked  if  the 
King  wished  to  receive  the  Lord's  supper.  "  Surely,"  said 
Charles,  "  if  I  am  not  unworthy."  The  host  was  brought  in. 
Charles  feebly  strove  to  rise  and  kneel  before  it.  The  priest 

*  See  the  London  Gazette  of  Nov.  21, 1678.  Barillon  and  Burnet  say  that  Hud- 
dleston was  excepted  out  of  all  the  acts  of  Parliament  made  against  priests ;  but 
this  is  a  mistake. 

I.— 26 


402  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  IV. 

bade  him  lie  still,  and  assured  him  that  God  would  accept  the 
humiliation  of  the  soul,  and  would  not  require  the  humili- 
ation of  the  body.  The  King  found  so  much  difficulty  in 
swallowing  the  bread  that  it  was  necessary  to  open  the  door 
and  to  procure  a  glass  of  water.  This  rite  ended,  the  monk 
held  up  a  crucifix  before  the  penitent,  charged  him  to  fix  his 
last  thoughts  on  the  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer,  and  with- 
drew. The  whole  ceremony  had  occupied  about  three-quar- 
ters of  an  hour ;  and,  during  that  time,  the  courtiers  who 
filled  the  outer  room  had  communicated  their  suspicions  to 
each  other  by  whispers  and  significant  glances.  The  door 
was  at  length  thrown  open,  and  the  crowd  again  filled  the 
chamber  of  death. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  evening.  The  King  seemed  much 
relieved  by  what  had  passed.  His  natural  children  were 
brought  to  his  bedside,  the  Dukes  of  Graf  ton,  Southampton, 
and  Northumberland,  sons  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  the 
Duke  of  Saint  Albans,  son  of  Eleanor  Gwynn,  and  the  Duke 
of  Richmond,  son  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  Charles 
blessed  them  all,  but  spoke  with  peculiar  tenderness  to  Rich- 
mond. One  face  which  should  have  been  there  was  wanting. 
The  eldest  and  best  beloved  child  was  an  exile  and  a  wan- 
derer. His  name  was  not  once  mentioned  by  his  father. 

During  the  night  Charles  earnestly  recommended  the  Duch- 
ess of  Portsmouth  and  her  boy  to  the  care  of  James ;  "  And 
do  not,"  he  good-naturedly  added,  "let  poor  Nelly  starve." 
The  Queen  sent  excuses  for  her  absence  by  Halifax.  She 
said  that  she  was  too  much  disordered  to  resume  her  post  by 
the  couch,  and  implored  pardon  for  any  offence  which  she 
might  unwittingly  have  given.  "  She  ask  my  pardon,  poor 
woman !"  cried  Charles  ;  "  I  ask  hers  with  all  my  heart." 

The  morning  light  began  to  peep  through  the  windows  of 
Whitehall ;  and  Charles  desired  the  attendants  to  pull  aside 
the  curtains,  that  he  might  have  one  more  look  at  the  day. 
He  remarked  that  it  was  time  to  wind  up  a  clock  which  stood 
near  his  bed.  These  little  circumstances  were  long  remem- 
bered, because  they  proved  beyond  dispute  that,  when  he  de- 
clared himself  a  Roman  Catholic,  he  was  in  full  possession  of 


1685.  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  403 

his  faculties.  He  apologized  to  those  who  had  stood  round 
him  all  night  for  the  trouble  which  he  had  caused.  He  had 
been,  he  said,  a  most  unconscionable  time  dying ;  but  he  hoped 
that  they  would  excuse  it.  This  was  the  last  glimpse  of  that 
exquisite  urbanity,  so  often  found  potent  to  charm  away  the 
resentment  of  a  justly  incensed  nation.  Soon  after  dawn  the 
speech  of  the  dying  man  failed.  Before  ten  his  senses  were 
gone.  Great  numbers  had  repaired  to  the  churches  at  the 
hour  of  morning  service.  When  the  prayer  for  the  King  was 
read,  loud  groans  and  sobs  showed  how  deeply  his  people  felt 
for  him.  At  noon  on  Friday,  the  sixth  of  February,  he  passed 
away  without  a  struggle.* 

*  Clarke's  Life  of  James  the  Second,  i.,  746,  Orig.  Mem. ;  Barillon's  Despatch 
of  Feb.  T\,  1685 ;  Van  Citters's  Despatches  of  Feb.  ^s,  and  Feb.  ^;  Huddleston's 
Narrative ;  Letters  of  Philip,  second  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  277 ;  Sir  H.  Ellis's  Orig- 
inal Letters,  First  Series,  Hi.,  333 ;  Second  Series,  iv.,  74  ;  Chaillot  MS. ;  Burnet,  i., 
606;  Evelyn's  Diary,  Feb.  4,  168|;  Wei  wood's  Memoirs,  140;  North's  Life  of 
Guildford,  252 ;  Exainen,  648 ;  Hawkins's  Life  of  Ken ;  Dryden's  Threnodia  Au- 
gustalis ;  Sir  H.  Halford's  Essay  on  Deaths  of  Eminent  Persons.  See  also  a  frag- 
ment of  a  letter  written  by  the  Earl  of  Ailesbury,  which  is  printed  in  the  European 
Magazine  for  April,  1795.  Ailesbury  calls  Buruet  an  impostor.  Yet  his  own  nar- 
rative and  Burnet's  will  not,  to  any  candid  and  sensible  reader,  appear  to  contra- 
dict each  other.  I  have  seen  in  the  British  Museum,  and  also  in  the  Library  of 
the  Royal  Institution,  a  curious  broadside  containing  an  account  of  the  death  of 
Charles.  It  will  be  found  in  the  Somers  Collection.  The  author  was  evidently  a 
zealous  Roman  Catholic,  and  must  have  had  access  to  good  sources  of  information. 
I  strongly  suspect  that  he  had  been  in  communication,  directly  or  indirectly,  with 
James  himself.  No  name  is  given  at  length ;  but  the  initials  are  perfectly  intel- 
ligible, except  in  one  place.  It  is  said  that  the  D.  of  Y.  was  reminded  of  the  duty 
which  he  owed  to  his  brother  by  P.  M.  A.  C.  F.  I  must  own  myself  quite  unable 
to  decipher  the  last  five  letters.  It  is  some  consolation  that  Sir  Walter  Scott  was 
equally  unsuccessful  (1848).  Since  the  first  edition  of  this  work  was  published, 
several  very  ingenious  conjectures  touching  these  mysterious  letters  have  been 
communicated  to  me ;  but  I  am  convinced  that  the  true  solution  has  not  yet  been 
suggested  (1850).  I  still  greatly  doubt  whether  the  riddle  has  been  solved.  But 
the  most  plausible  interpretation  is  one  which,  with  some  variations,  occurred,  al- 
most at  the  same  time,  to  myself  and  to  several  other  persons ;  I  am  inclined  to 
read  "  Pere  Mansuete  A  Cordelier  Friar."  Mansuete,  a  Cordelier,  was  then  James's 
confessor.  To  Mansuete,  therefore,  it  peculiarly  belonged  to  remind  James  of  a 
sacred  duty  which  had  been  culpably  neglected.  The  writer  of  the  broadside  must 
have  been  unwilling  to  inform  the  world  that  a  soul  which  many  devout  Roman 
Catholics  had  left  to  perish  had  been  snatched  from  destruction  by  the  courageous 
charity  of  a  woman  of  loose  character.  It  is  therefore  not  unlikely  that  he  would 


4:04:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

At  that  time  the  common  people  throughout  Europe,  and 
nowhere  more  than  in  England,  were  in  the  habit  of  attrib- 
suspidons  of  uting  the  deaths  of  princes,  especially  when  the 
poison.  prince  was  popular  and  the  death  unexpected,  to 

the  foulest  and  darkest  kind  of  assassination.  Thus  James 
the  First  had  been  accused  of  poisoning  Prince  Henry.  Thus 
Charles  the  First  had  been  accused  of  poisoning  James  the 
First.  Thus,  when,  in  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth,  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  died  at  Carisbrook,  it  was  loudly  asserted 
that  Cromwell  had  stooped  to  the  senseless  and  dastardly 
wickedness  of  mixing  noxious  drugs  with  the  food  of  a  young 
girl  whom  he  had  no  conceivable  motive  to  injure.*  A  few 

prefer  a  fiction,  at  once  probable  and  edifying,  to  a  truth  which  could  not  fail  to 
give  scandal  (1856). 

It  should  seem  that  no  transactions  in  history  ought  to  be  more  accurately  known 
to  us  than  those  which  took  place  round  the  death-bed  of  Charles  the  Second.  We 
have  several  relations  written  by  persons  who  were  actually  in  his  room.  We  have 
several  relations  written  by  persons  who,  though  not  themselves  eye-witnesses,  had 
the  best  opportunity  of  obtaining  information  from  eye-witnesses.  Yet  whoever 
attempts  to  digest  this  vast  mass  of  materials  into  a  consistent  narrative  will  find 
the  task  a  difficult  one.  Indeed,  James  and  his  wife,  when  they  told  the  story  to 
the  nuns  of  Chaillot,  could  not  agree  as  to  some  circumstances.  The  Queen  said 
that,  after  Charles  had  received  the  last  sacraments,  the  Protestant  bishops  renew- 
ed their  exhortations.  The  King  said  that  nothing  of  the  kind  took  place.  "  Sure- 
ly," said  the  Queen,  "  you  told  me  so  yourself."  "  It  is  impossible  that  I  could 
have  told  you  so,"  said  the  King  ;  "  for  nothing  of  the  sort  happened." 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  Sir  Henry  Halford  should  have  taken  so  little 
trouble  to  ascertain  the  facts  on  which  he  pronounced  judgment.  He  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  aware  of  the  existence  of  the  narratives  of  James,  Barillon, 
and  Huddleston. 

As  this  is  the  first  occasion  on  which  I  cite  the  correspondence  of  the  Dutch 
ministers  at  the  English  court,  I  ought  here  to  mention  that  a  series  of  their  de- 
spatches, from  the  accession  of  James  the  Second  to  his  flight,  forms  one  of  the 
most  valuable  parts  of  the  Mackintosh  collection.  The  subsequent  despatches, 
down  to  the  settlement  of  the  government  in  February,  1 689, 1  procured  from  the 
Hague.  The  Dutch  archives  have  been  far  too  little  explored.  They  abound  with 
information  interesting  in  the  highest  degree  to  every  Englishman.  They  are  ad- 
mirably arranged ;  and  they  are  in  the  charge  of  gentlemen  whose  courtesy,  liber- 
ality, and  zeal  for  the  interests  of  literature  cannot  be  too  highly  praised.  I  wish 
to  acknowledge,  in  the  strongest  manner,  my  own  obligations  to  Mr.  De  Jonge  and 
to  Mr.  Van  Zwanne. 

*  Clarendon  mentions  this  calumny  with  just  scorn.  "  According  to  the  charity 
of  the  time  toward  Cromwell,  very  many  would  have  it  believed  to  be  by  poison, 
of  which  there  was  no  appearance,  nor  any  proof  ever  after  made." — Book  XIV. 


1685.  CHARLES  THE   SECOND.  405 

years  later,  the  rapid  decomposition  of  Cromwell's  own  corpse 
was  ascribed  by  many  to  a  deadly  potion  administered  in  his 
medicine.  The  death  of  Charles  the  Second  could  scarcely 
fail  to  occasion  similar  rumors.  The  public  ear  had  been  re- 
peatedly abused  by  stories  of  Popish  plots  against  his  life. 
There  was,  therefore,  in  many  minds,  a  strong  predisposition 
to  suspicion ;  and  there  were  some  unlucky  circumstances 
which,  to  minds  so  predisposed,  might  seem  to  indicate  that 
a  crime  had  been  perpetrated.  The  fourteen  doctors  who 
deliberated  on  the  King's  case  contradicted  each  other  and 
themselves.  Some  of  them  thought  that  his  fit  was  epileptic, 
and  that  he  should  be  suffered  to  have  his  doze  out.  The 
majority  pronounced  him  apoplectic,  and  tortured  him  dur- 
ing some  hours  like  an  Indian  at  a  stake.  Then  it  was  de- 
termined to  call  his  complaint  a  fever,  and  to  administer 
•doses  of  bark.  One  physician, however,  protested  against  this 
course,  and  assured  the  Queen  that  his  brethren  would  kill 
the  King  among  them.  Nothing  better  than  dissension  and 
vacillation  could  be  expected  from  such  a  multitude  of  ad- 
visers. But  many  of  the  vulgar  not  unnaturally  concluded, 
from  the  perplexity  of  the  great  masters  of  the  healing  art, 
that  the  malady  had  some  extraordinary  origin.  There  is 
reason  to  believe  that  a  horrible  suspicion  did  actually  cross 
the  mind  of  Short,  who,  though  skilful  in  his  profession, 
seems  to  have  been  a  nervous  and  fanciful  man,  and  whose 
perceptions  were  probably  confused  by  dread  of  the  odious 
imputations  to  which  he,  as  a  Roman  Catholic,  was  peculiarly 
exposed.  We  cannot,  therefore,  wonder  that  wild  stories  with- 
out number  were  repeated  and  believed  by  the  common  peo- 
ple. His  Majesty's  tongue  had  swelled  to  the  size  of  a  neat's 
tongue.  A  cake  of  deleterious  powder  had  been  found  in  his 
brain.  There  were  blue  spots  on  his  breast.  There  were 
black  spots  on  his  shoulder.  Something  had  been  put  into  his 
snuffbox.  Something  had  been  put  into  his  broth.  Some- 
thing had  been  put  into  his  favorite  dish  of  eggs  and  amber- 
gris. The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  had  poisoned  him  in  a 
cup  of  chocolate.  The  Queen  had  poisoned  him  in  a  jar  of 
dried  pears.  Such  tales  ought  to  be  preserved ;  for  they  fur- 


406  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

nish  us  with  a  measure  of  the  intelligence  and  virtue  of  the 
generation  which  eagerly  devoured  them.  That  no  rumor 
of  the  same  kind  has  ever,  in  the  present  age,  found  credit 
among  us,  even  when  lives  on  which  great  interests  depended 
have  been  terminated  by  unforeseen  attacks  of  disease,  is  to 
be  attributed  partly  to  the  progress  of  medical  and  chemical 
science,  but  partly  also,  it  may  be  hoped,  to  the  progress  which 
the  nation  has  made  in  good  sense,  justice,  and  humanity.* 

When  all  was  over,  James  retired  from  the  bedside  to  his 
closet,  where,  during  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he  remained  alone, 
speech  of  Meanwhile  the  Privy  Councillors  who  were  in  the 
fheprivy *°  palace  assembled.  The  new  King  came  forth,  and 
took  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  board.  He  com- 
menced his  administration,  according  to  usage,  by  a  speech  to 
the  Council.  He  expressed  his  regret  for  the  loss  which  he 
had  just  sustained,  and  he  promised  to  imitate  the  singular 
lenity  which  had  distinguished  the  late  reign.  He  was  aware, 
he  said,  that  he  had  been  accused  of  a  fondness  for  arbitrary 
power.  But  that  was  not  the  only  falsehood  which  had  been 
told  of  him.  He  was  resolved  to  maintain  the  established 
government  both  in  Church  and  State.  The  Church  of  Eng- 
land he  knew  to  be  eminently  loyal.  It  should,  therefore,  al- 
ways be  his  care  to  support  and  defend  her.  The  laws  of 
England,  he  also  knew,  were  sufficient  to  make  him  as  great 
a  king  as  he  could  wish  to  be.  He  would  not  relinquish  his 
own  rights ;  but  he  would  respect  the  rights  of  others.  He 
had  formerly  risked  his  life  in  defence  of  his  country ;  and 
he  would  still  go  as  far  as  any  man  in  support  of  her  just 
liberties. 

This  speech  was  not,  like  modern  speeches  on  similar  occa- 
sions, carefully  prepared  by  the  advisers  of  the  sovereign.  It 

*  Welwood,  139;  Burnet,  i.,  609 ;  Sheffield's  Character  of  Charles  the  Second; 
North's  Life  of  Guildford,  252 ;  Examen,  648 ;  Revolution  Politics ;  Higgons  on 
Burnet.  What  North  says  of  the  embarrassment  and  vacillation  of  the  physicians 
is  confirmed  by  the  despatches  of  Van  Citters.  I  have  been  much  perplexed  by 
the  strange  story  about  Short's  suspicions.  I  was,  at  one  time,  inclined  to  adopt 
North's  solution.  But,  though  I  attach  little  weight  to  the  authority  of  Welwood 
and  Burnet  in  such  a  case,  I  cannot  reject  the  testimony  of  so  well-informed  and 
so  unwilling  a  witness  as  Sheffield. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  407 

was  the  extemporaneous  expression  of  the  new  King's  feel- 
ings at  a  moment  of  great  excitement.  The  members  of  the 
Council  broke  forth  into  clamors  of  delight  and  gratitude. 
The  Lord  President,  Rochester,  in  the  name  of  his  brethren, 
expressed  a  hope  that  His  Majesty's  most  welcome  declara- 
tion would  be  made  public.  The  Solicitor-general,  Heneage 
Finch,  offered  to  act  as  clerk.  He  was  a  zealous  Churchman, 
and,  as  such,  was  naturally  desirous  that  there  should  be  some 
permanent  record  of  the  gracious  promises  which  had  just 
been  uttered.  "  Those  promises,"  he  said,  "  have  made  so 
deep  an  impression  on  me  that  I  can  repeat  them  word  for 
word."  He  soon  produced  his  report.  James  read  it,  ap- 
proved of  it,  and  ordered  it  to  be  published.  At  a  later 
period  he  said  that  he  had  taken  this  step  without  due  con- 
sideration, that  his  unpremeditated  expressions  touching  the 
Church  of  England  were  too  strong,  and  that  Finch  had,  with 
a  dexterity  which  at  the  time  escaped  notice,  made  them  still 
stronger.* 

The  King  had  been  exhausted  by  long  watching  and  by 
many  violent  emotions.  He  now  retired  to  rest.  The  Privy 
James  pro-  Councillors,  having  respectfully  accompanied  him 
to  his  bedchamber,  returned  to  their  seats,  and  is- 
sued orders  for  the  ceremony  of  proclamation.  The  Guards 
were  under  arms;  the  heralds  appeared  in  their  gorgeous 
coats;  and  the  pageant  proceeded  without  any  obstruction. 
Casks  of  wine  were  broken  up  in  the  streets,  and  all  who 
passed  were  invited  to  drink  to  the  health  of  the  new  sover- 
eign. But,  though  an  occasional  shout  was  raised,  the  people 
were  not  in  a  joyous  mood.  Tears  were  seen  in  many  eyes ; 
and  it  was  remarked  that  there  was  scarcely  a  house-maid  in 
London  who  had  not  contrived  to  procure  some  fragment  of 
black  crape  in  honor  of  King  Charles.f 

The  funeral  called  forth  much  censure.  It  would,  indeed, 
hardly  have  been  accounted  worthy  of  a  noble  and  opulent 

*  London  Gazette,  Feb.  9,  168f ;  Clarke's  Life  of  James  the  Second,  ii.,  3  ;  Ba- 
rillon,  Feb.  T95 ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  Feb.  6. 

f  See  the  authorities  cited  in  the  last  note.  See  also  the  Examen,  647 ;  Burnet, 
i.,  620 ;  Higgons  on  Burnet. 


408  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

subject.  The  Tories  gently  blamed  the  new  King's  parsi- 
mony ;  the  Whigs  sneered  at  his  want  of  natural  affection ; 
and  the  fiery  Covenanters  of  Scotland  exultingly  proclaimed 
that  the  curse  denounced  of  old  against  wicked  princes  had 
been  signally  fulfilled,  and  that  the  departed  tyrant  had  been 
buried  with  the  burial  of  an  ass.*  Yet  James  commenced  his 
administration  with  a  large  measure  of  public  good-will.  His 
speech  to  the  Council  appeared  in  print,  and  the  impression 
which  it  produced  was  highly  favorable  to  him.  This,  then, 
was  the  prince  whom  a  faction  had  driven  into  exile  and  had 
tried  to  rob  of  his  birthright,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  a 
deadly  enemy  to  the  religion  and  laws  of  England.  He  had 
triumphed:  he  was  on  the  throne;  and  his  first  act  was  to 
declare  that  he  would  defend  the  Church,  and  would  strictly 
respect  the  rights  of  his  people.  The  estimate  which  all  par- 
ties had  formed  of  his  character  added  weight  to  every  word 
that  fell  from  him.  The  Whigs  called  him  haughty,  implaca- 
ble, obstinate,  regardless  of  public  opinion.  The  Tories,  while 
they  extolled  his  princely  virtues,  had  often  lamented  his  neg- 
lect of  the  arts  which  conciliate  popularity.  Satire  itself  had 
never  represented  him  as  a  man  likely  to  court  public  favor 
by  professing  what  he  did  not  feel,  and  by  promising  what 
he  had  no  intention  of  performing.  On  the  Sunday  which 
followed  his  accession,  his  speech  was  quoted  in  many  pulpits. 
"  We  have  now  for  our  Church,"  cried  one  loyal  preacher, 
"  the  word  of  a  king,  and  of  a  king  who  was  never  worse 
than  his  word."  This  pointed  sentence  was  fast  circulated 
through  town  and  country,  and  was  soon  the  watchword  of 
the  whole  Tory  party.f 

The  great  offices  of  state  had  become  vacant  by  the  demise 
of  the  Crown ;  and  it  was  necessary  for  James  to  determine 

state  of  the  ad-  now  *nej  should  be  filled.  Few  of  the  members 
ministration.  of  tiie  iate  cabmet;  }ia(j  anv  reason  to  expect  his 

favor.  Sunderland,  who  was  Secretary  of  State,  and  Godol- 
phin,  who  was  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  had  supported  the 

*  London  Gazette,  Feb.  14, 168£;  Evelyn's  Diary  of  the  same  day;  Burnet,  i., 
610 ;  The  Hind  let  loose. 

f  Burnet,  i.,  628;  Lestrange,  Observator,  Feb.  11,  1684. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  409 

Exclusion  Bill.  Halifax,  who  held  the  Privy  Seal,  had  op- 
posed that  bill  with  unrivalled  powers  of  argument  and  elo- 
quence. But  Halifax  was  the  mortal  enemy  of  despotism  and 
of  Popery.  He  saw  with  dread  the  progress  of  the  French 
arms  on  the  Continent,  and  the  influence  of  French  gold  in 
the  counsels  of  England.  Had  his  advice  been  followed, 
the  laws  would  have  been  strictly  observed :  clemency  would 
have  been  extended  to  the  vanquished  Whigs:  the  Parlia- 
ment would  have  been  convoked  in  due  season :  an  attempt 
would  have  been  made  to  reconcile  our  domestic  factions; 
and  the  principles  of  the  Triple  Alliance  would  again  have 
guided  our  foreign  policy.  He  had  therefore  incurred  the 
bitter  animosity  of  James.  The  Lord  Keeper  Guildford 
could  hardly  be  said  to  belong  to  either  of  the  parties  into 
which  the  court  was  divided.  He  could  by  no  means  be 
called  a  friend  of  liberty;  and  yet  he  had  so  great  a  rever- 
ence for  the  letter  of  the  law  that  he  was  not  a  serviceable 
tool  of  arbitrary  power.  He  was  accordingly  designated  by 
the  vehement  Tories  as  a  Trimmer,  and  \vas  to  James  an  ob- 
ject of  aversion  with  which  contempt  was  largely  mingled. 
Ormond,  who  was  Lord  Steward  of  the  Household  and  Vice- 
roy of  Ireland,  then  resided  at  Dublin.  His  claims  on  the 
royal  gratitude  were  superior  to  those  of  any  other  subject. 
He  had  fought  bravely  for  Charles  the  First :  he  had  shared 
the  exile  of  Charles  the  Second;  and,  since  the  Restoration, 
he  had,  in  spite  of  many  provocations,  kept  his  loyalty  un- 
stained.' Though  he  had  been  disgraced  during  the  predom- 
inance of  the  Cabal,  he  had  never  gone  into  factious  opposi- 
tion, and  had,  in  the  days  of  the  Popish  Plot  and  the  Exclu- 
sion Bill,  been  foremost  among  the  supporters  of  the  throne. 
He  was  now  old,  and  had  been  recently  tried  by  the  most 
cruel  of  all  calamities.  He  had  followed  to  the  grave  a  son 
who  should  have  been  his  own  chief  mourner,  the  gallant  Os- 
sory.  The  eminent  services,  the  venerable  age,  and  the  do- 
mestic misfortunes  of  Ormond  made  him  an  object  of  general 
interest  to  the  nation.  The  Cavaliers  regarded  him  as,  both 
by  right  of  seniority  and  by  right  of  merit,  their  head ;  and 
the  Whigs  knew  that,  faithful  as  he  haft  always  been  to  the 


410  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

cause  of  monarchy,  he  was  no  friend  either  to  Popery  or  to 
arbitrary  power.  But,  high  as  he  stood  in  the  public  esti- 
mation, he  had  little  favor  to  expect  from  his  new  master. 
James,  indeed,  while  still  a  subject,  had  urged  his  brother  to 
make  a  complete  change  in  the  Irish  administration.  Charles 
had  assented  ;  and  it  had  been  arranged  that,  in  a  few  months, 
there  should  be  a  new  lord-lieutenant.* 

Rochester  was  the  only  member  of  the  cabinet  who  stood 
high  in  the  favor  of  the  King.  The  general  expectation  was 
New  arrange-  tnat  ne  would  be  immediately  placed  at  the  head  of 
ments.  affairs,  and  that  all  the  other  great  officers  of  state 

would  be  changed.  This  expectation  proved  to  be  well  found- 
ed in  part  only.  Rochester  was  declared  Lord  Treasurer,  and 
thus  became  prime  minister.  Neither  a  Lord  High  Admiral 
nor  a  Board  of  Admiralty  was  appointed.  The  new  King, 
who  loved  the  details  of  naval  business,  and  would  have  made 
a  respectable  clerk  in  the  dock-yard  at  Chatham,  determined 
to  be  his  own  minister  of  marine.  Under  him  the  manage- 
ment of  that  important  department  was  confided  to  Samuel 
Pepys,  whose  library  and  diary  have  kept  his  name  fresh  to 
our  time.  No  servant  of  the  late  sovereign  was  publicly  dis- 
graced. Sunderland  exerted  so  much  art  and  address,  em- 
ployed so  many  intercessors,  and  was  in  possession  of  so  many 
secrets,  that  he  was  suffered  to  retain  his  seals.  Godolphin's 
obsequiousness,  industry,  experience,  and  taciturnity,  could  ill 
be  spared.  As  he  was  no  longer  wanted  at  the  Treasury, 
he  was  made  Chamberlain  to  the  Queen.  "With  these  three 
Lords  the  King  took  counsel  on  all  important  questions.  As 
to  Halifax,  Ormond,  and  Guildford,  he  determined  not  yet  to 
dismiss  them,  but  merely  to  humble  and  annoy  them. 

Halifax  was  told  that  he  must  give  up  the  Privy  Seal  and 
accept  the  Presidency  of  the  Council.  He  submitted  with 
extreme  reluctance.  For,  though  the  President  of  the  Coun- 
cil had  always  taken  precedence  of  the  Lord  Privy  Seal,  the 
Lord  Privy  Seal  was,  in  that  age,  a  much  more  important  of- 

*  The  letters  which  passed  between  Rochester  and  Ormond  on  this  subject  will 
be  found  in  the  Clarendon  Correspondence. 


1C85.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  411 

ficer  than  the  Lord  President.  Rochester  had  not  forgot- 
ten the  jest  which  had  been  made  a  few  months  before  on 
his  own  removal  from  the  Treasury,  and  enjoyed  in  his  turn 
the  pleasure  of  kicking  his  rival  up-stairs.  The  Privy  Seal 
was  delivered  to  Rochester's  elder  brother,  Henry,  Earl  of 
Clarendon. 

To  Barillon  James  expressed  the  strongest  dislike  of  Hali- 
fax. "  I  know  him  well ;  I  never  can  trust  him.  He  shall 
have  no  share  in  the  management  of  public  business.  As  to 
the  place  which  I  have  given  him,  it  will  just  serve  to  show 
how  little  influence  he  has."  But  to  Halifax  it  was  thought 
convenient  to  hold  a  very  different  language.  "  All  the  past 
is  forgotten,"  said  the  King,  "  except  the  service  which  you 
did  me  in  the  debate  on  the  Exclusion  Bill."  This  speech  has 
often  been  cited  to  prove  that  James  was  not  so  vindictive  as 
he  had  been  called  by  his  enemies.  It  seems  rather  to  prove 
that  he  by  no  means  deserved  the  praises  which  have  been 
bestowed  on  his  sincerity  by  his  friends.* 

Ormond  was  politely  informed  that  his  services  were  no 
longer  needed  in  Ireland,  and  was  invited  to  repair  to  White- 
hall, and  to  perform  the  functions  of  Lord  Steward.  He  du- 
tifully submitted,  but  did  not  affect  to  deny  that  the  new  ar- 
rangement wounded  his  feelings  deeply.  On  the  eve  of  his 
departure  he  gave  a  magnificent  banquet  at  Kilmainham  Hos- 
pital, then  just  completed,  to  the  officers  of  the  garrison  of 
Dublin.  After  dinner  he  rose,  tilled  a  goblet  to  the  brim  with 
wine,  and,  holding  it  up,  asked  whether  he  had  spilled  one 
drop.  "  No,  gentlemen ;  \vhatever  the  courtiers  may  say,  I 
am  not  yet  sunk  into  dotage.  My  hand  does  not  fail  me  yet ; 
and  my  hand  is  not  steadier  than  my  heart.  To  the  health  of 
King  James !"  Such  was  the  last  farewell  of  Ormond  to  Ire- 
land. He  left  the  administration  in  the  hands  of  Lords  Jus- 
tices, and  repaired  to  London,  where  he  was  received  with  un- 
usual marks  of  public  respect.  Many  persons  of  rank  went 
forth  to  meet  him  on  the  road.  A  long  train  of  equipages 

*  The  ministerial  changes  are  announced  in  the  London  Gazette,  Feb.  19, 168|. 
See  Burnet,  i.,  621 ;  Barillon,  Feb.  T9y,  $&  and  f^r 


412  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

followed  him  into  Saint  James's  Square,  where  his  mansion 
stood  ;  and  the  square  was  thronged  by  a  multitude  which 
greeted  him  with  loud  acclamations.* 

The  Great  Seal  was  left  in  Guildford's  custody ;  but  a 
marked  indignity  was  at  the  same  time  offered  to  him.  It 
sir  George  was  determined  that  another  lawyer  of  more  vigor 
and  audacity  should  be  called  to  assist  in  the  admin- 
istration. The  person  selected  was  Sir  George  Jeffreys,  Chief- 
justice  of  the  Court  of  King's  Bench.  The  depravity  of  this 
man  has  passed  into  a  proverb.  Both  the  great  English  par- 
ties have  attacked  his  memory  with  emulous  violence ;  for  the 
Whigs  considered  him  as  their  most  barbarous  enemy,  and  the 
Tories  found  it  convenient  to  throw  on  him  the  blame  of  all 
the  crimes  which  had  sullied  their  triumph.  A  diligent  and 
candid  inquiry  will  show  that  some  frightful  stories  which 
have  been  told  concerning  him  are  false  or  exaggerated.  Yet 
the  dispassionate  historian  will  be  able  to  make  very  little  de- 
duction from  the  vast  mass  of  infamy  with  which  the  memory 
of  the  wicked  judge  has  been  loaded. 

He  was  a  man  of  quick  and  vigorous  parts,  but  constitution- 
ally prone  to  insolence  and  to  the  angry  passions.  When  just 
emerging  from  boyhood  he  had  risen  into  practice  at  the  Old 
Bailey  bar,  a  bar  where  advocates  have  always  used  a  license 
of  tongue  unknown  in  Westminster  Hall.  Here,  during  many 
years,  his  chief  business  was  to  examine  and  cross-examine  the 
most  hardened  miscreants  of  a  great  capital.  Daily  conflicts 
with  prostitutes  and  thieves  called  out  and  exercised  his  pow- 
ers so  effectually  that  he  became  the  most  consummate  bully 
ever  known  in  his  profession.  Tenderness  for  others  and  re- 
spect for  himself  were  feelings  alike  unknown  to  him.  He 
acquired  a  boundless  command  of  the  rhetoric  in  which  the 
vulgar  express  hatred  and  contempt.  The  profusion  of  male- 
dictions and  vituperative  epithets  which  composed  his  vocab- 
ulary could  hardly  have  been  rivalled  in  the  fish-market  or 
the  bear-garden.  His  countenance  and  his  voice  must  always 


*  Carte's  Life  of  Ormond ;  Secret  Consults  of  the  Romish  Party  in  Ireland, 
1690;  Memoirs  of  Ireland,  1716. 


1685  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  413 

have  been  imamiable.  But  these  natural  advantages — for 
such  lie  seems  to  have  thought  them — he  had  improved  to 
such  a  degree  that  there  were  few  who,  in  his  paroxysms  of 
rage,  could  see  or  hear  him  without  emotion.  Impudence 
and  ferocity  sat  upon  his  brow.  The  glare  of  his  eyes  had 
a  fascination  for  the  unhappy  victim  on  whom  they  were 
fixed.  Yet  his  brow  and  his  eye  were  less  terrible  than  the 
savage  lines  of  his  mouth.  His  yell  of  fury,  as  was  said  by 
one  who  had  often  heard  it,  sounded  like  the  thunder  of 
the  judgment  -  day.  These  qualifications  he  -carried,  while 
still  a  young  man,  from  the  bar  to  the  bench.  He  early  be- 
came Common  Sergeant,  and  then  Recorder  of  London.  As 
a  judge  at  the  City  sessions  he  exhibited  the  same  propensi- 
ties which  afterward,  in  a  higher  post,  gained  for  him  an  un- 
enviable immortality.  Already  might  be  remarked  in  him 
the  most  odious  vice  which  is  incident  to  human  nature,  a 
delight  in  misery  merely  as  misery.  There  was  a  fiendish 
exultation  in  the  way  in  which  he  pronounced  sentence  on 
offenders.  Their  weeping  and  imploring  seemed  to  titillate 
him  voluptuously;  and  he  loved  to  scare  them  into  fits  by 
dilating  with  luxuriant  amplification  on  all  the  details  of 
what  they  were  to  suffer.  Thus,  when  he  had  an  opportuni- 
ty of  ordering  an  unlucky  adventuress  to  be  whipped  at  the 
cart's  tail,  "  Hangman,"  he  would  exclaim,  "  I  charge  you  to 
pay  particular  attention  to  this  lady !  Scourge  her  soundly, 
man  !  Scourge  her  till  the  blood  runs  down  !  It  is  Christmas, 
a  cold  time  for  madam  to  strip  in !  See  that  you  warm  her 
shoulders  thoroughly  !"*  He  was  hardly  less  facetious  when 
he  passed  judgment  on  poor  Lodowick  Muggleton,  the  drunk- 
en tailor  who  fancied  himself  a  prophet.  "  Impudent  rogue !" 
roared  Jeffreys,  "  thou  shalt  have  an  easy,  easy,  easy  punish- 
ment !"  One  part  of  this  easy  punishment  was  the  pillory,  in 
which  the  wretched  fanatic  was  almost  killed  with  brick-bats.f 

*  Christmas  Sessions  Paper  of  1678. 

f  The  Acts  of  the  Witnesses  of  the  Spirit,  Part  V.,  Chap.  v.  In  this  work, 
Lodowick,  after  his  fashion,  revenges  himself  on  the  "  bawling  devil,"  as  he  calls 
Jeffreys,  by  a  string  of  curses  which  Ernulphus,  or  Jeffreys  himself,  might  have 
envied.  The  trial  was  in  January,  1677. 


414  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

By  this  time  the  heart  of  Jeffreys  had  been  hardened, to 
that  temper  which  tyrants  require  in  their  worst  implements. 
He  had  hitherto  looked  for  professional  advancement  to  the 
corporation  of  London.  He  had  therefore  professed  himself 
a  Roundhead,  and  had  always  appeared  to  be  in  a  higher  state 
of  exhilaration  when  he  explained  to  Popish  priests  that  they 
were  to  be  cut  down  alive,  and  were  to  see  their  own  bowels 
burned,  than  when  lie  passed  ordinary  sentences  of  death.  But, 
as  soon  as  he  had  got  all  that  the  City  could  give,  he  made 
haste  to  sell  his  forehead  of  brass  and  his  tongue  of  venom 
to  the  Court.  Chiffinch,  who  was  accustomed  to  act  as  broker 
in  infamous  contracts  of  more  than  one  kind,  lent  his  aid. 
He  had  conducted  many  amorous  and  many  political  in- 
trigues; but  he  assuredly  never  rendered  a  more  scandalous 
service  to  his  masters  than  when  he  introduced  Jeffreys  to 
Whitehall.  The  renegade  soon  found  a  patron  in  the  ob- 
durate and  revengeful  James,  but  was  always  regarded  with 
scorn  and  disgust  by  Charles,  whose  faults,  great  as  they 
were,  had  no  affinity  with  insolence  and  cruelty.  "  That 
man,"  said  the  King,  "has  no  learning,  no  sense,  no  manners, 
and  more  impudence  than  ten'  carted  street-walkers."*  Work 
was  to  be  done,  however,  which  could  be  trusted  to  no  man 
who  reverenced  law  or  was  sensible  of  shame  ;  and  thus  Jef- 
freys, at  an  age  at  which  a  barrister  thinks  himself  fortunate 

•/      >  O 

if  he  is  employed  to  conduct  an  important  cause,  was  made 
Chief -justice  of  the  King's  Bench. 

His  enemies  could  not  deny  that  he  possessed  some  of  the 
qualities  of  a  great  judge.  His  legal  knowledge,  indeed,  was 
merely  such  as  he  had  picked  up  in  practice  of  no  very  high 
kind.  But  he  had  one  of  those  happily  constituted  intellects 
which,  across  labyrinths  of  sophistry,  and  through  masses  of 
immaterial  facts,  go  straight  to  the  true  point.  Of  his  intel- 
lect, however,  he  seldom  had  the  full  use:  Even  in  civil  causes 
his  malevolent  and  despotic  temper  perpetually  disordered 
his  judgment.  To  enter  his  court  was  to  enter  the  den  of  a 

*  This  saying  is  to  be  found  in  many  contemporary  pamphlets.  Titus  Gates 
was  never  tired  of  quoting  it.  See  his  Eluuv  BaoiXncrj. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  415 

wild  beast,  which  none  could  tame,  and  which  was  as  likely 
to  be  roused  to  rage  by  caresses  as  by  attacks.  He  frequently 
poured  forth  on  plaintiffs  and  defendants,  barristers  and  at- 
torneys, witnesses  and  jurymen,  torrents  of  frantic  abuse,  in- 
termixed with  oaths  and  curses.  His  looks  and  tones  had  in- 
spired terror  when  he  was  merely  a  young  advocate  struggling 
into  practice.  Now  that  he  was  at  the  head  of  the  most  for- 
midable tribunal  in  the  realm,  there  were  few  indeed  who  did 
not  tremble  before  him.  Even  when  he  was  sober,  his  vio- 
lence was  sufficiently  frightful.  But  in  general  his  reason  was 
overclouded  and  his  evil  passions  stimulated  by  the  fumes  of 
intoxication.  His  evenings  were  ordinarily  given  to  revelry. 
People  who  saw  him  only  over  his  bottle  would  have  supposed 
him  to  be  a  man  gross  indeed,  sottish,  and  addicted  to  low 
company  and  low  merriment,  but  social  and  good-humored. 
He  was  constantly  surrounded  on  such  occasions  by  buffoons 
selected,  for  the  most  part,  from  among  the  vilest  pettifoggers 
who  practised  before  him.  These  men  bantered  and  abused 
each  other  for  his  entertainment.  He  joined  in  their  ribald 
talk,  sang  catches  with  them,  and,  when  his  head  grew  hot, 
hugged  and  kissed  them  in  an  ecstasy  of  drunken  fondness. 
But  though  wine  at  first  seemed  to  soften  his  heart,  the  effect 
a  few  hours  later  was  very  different.  He  often  came  to  the 
judgment-seat,  having  kept  the  court  waiting  long,  and  yet 
having  but  half  slept  off  his  debauch,  his  cheeks  on  fire,  his 
eyes  staring  like  those  of  a  maniac.  When  he  was  in  this 
state,  his  boon  companions  of  the  preceding  night,  if  they 
were  wise,  kept  out  of  his  way :  for  the  recollection  of  the 
familiarity  to  which  he  had  admitted  them  inflamed  his  ma- 
lignity ;  and  he  was  sure  to  take  every  opportunity  of  over- 
whelming them  with  execration  and  invective.  Not  the  least 
odious  of  his  many  odious  peculiarities  was  the  pleasure 
which  he  took  in  publicly  browbeating  and  mortifying  those 
whom,  in  his  fits  of  maudlin  tenderness,  he  had  encouraged  to 
presume  on  his  favor. 

The  services  which  the  government  had  expected  from  him 
were  performed,  not  merely  without  flinching,  but  eagerly  and 
triumphantly.  His  first  exploit  was  the  judicial  murder  of 


4:16  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV- 

Algernon  Sidney.  What  followed  was  in  perfect  harmony 
with  this  beginning.  Respectable  Tories  lamented  the  dis- 
grace which  the  barbarity  and  indecency  of  so  great  a  func- 
tionary brought  upon  the  administration  of  justice.  But  the 
excesses  which  filled  such  men  with  horror  were  titles  to  the 
esteem  of  James.  Jeffreys,  therefore,  very  soon  after  the  death 
of  Charles,  obtained  a  seat  in  the  cabinet  and  a  peerage.  This 
last  honor  was  a  signal  mark  of  royal  approbation.  For,  since 
the  judicial  system  of  the  realm  had  been  remodelled  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  no  chief-justice  had  been  a  lord  of  Par- 
liament.* 

Guildford  now  found  himself  superseded  in  all  his  political 
functions,  and  restricted  to  his  business  as  a  judge  in  equity. 
At  Council  he  was  treated  by  Jeffreys  with  marked  incivility. 
The  whole  legal  patronage  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Chief- 
justice  ;  and  it  was  well  known  by  the  bar  that  the  surest  way 
to  propitiate  the  Chief-justice  was  to  treat  the  Lord  Keeper 
with  disrespect. 

James  had  not  been  many  hours  King  when  a  dispute  arose 
between  the  two  heads  of  the  law.  The  customs  had  been 
The  revenue  settled  on  Charles  for  life  only,  and  could  not 
outleacneactwofh"  therefore  be  legally  exacted  by  the  new  sovereign, 
parliament.  gome  weeks  must  elapse  before  a  House  of  Com- 
mons could  be  chosen.  If,  in  the  mean  time,  the  duties  were 
suspended,  the  revenue  would  suffer;  the  regular  course  of 
trade  would  be  interrupted;  the  consumer  would  derive  no 
benefit ;  and  the  only  gainers  would  be  those  fortunate  specu- 
lators whose  cargoes  might  happen  to  arrive  during  the  in- 
terval between  the  demise  of  the  crown  and  the  meeting  of 
the  Parliament.  The  Treasury  was  besieged  by  merchants 
whose  warehouses  were  filled  with  goods  on  which  duty  had 
been  paid,  and  who  were  in  grievous  apprehension  of  being 

*  The  chief  sources  of  information  concerning  Jeffreys  are  the  State  Trials  and 
North's  Life  of  Lord  Guildford.  Some  touches  of  minor  importance  I  owe  to  con- 
temporary pamphlets  in  verse  and  prose.  Such  are  the  Bloody  Assizes,  the  Life 
and  Death  of  George  Lord  Jeffreys,  the  Panegyric  on  the  late  Lord  Jeffreys,  the 
Letter  to  the  Lord  Chancellor,  Jeffreys's  Elegy.  See  also  Evelyn's  Diary,  Dec.  5, 
1683,  Oct.  31,  1685.  I  scarcely  need  advise  every  reader  to  consult  Lord  Camp- 
bell's excellent  Life  of  Jeffreys. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  417 

undersold  and  ruined.  Impartial  men  must  admit  that  this 
was  one  of  those  cases  in  which  a  government  may  be  justi- 
fied in  deviating  from  the  strictly  constitutional  course.  But 
when  it  is  necessary  to  deviate  from  the  strictly  constitutional 
course,  the  deviation  clearly  ought  to  be  no  greater  than  the 
necessity  requires.  Guildford  felt  this,  and  gave  advice  which 
did  him  honor.  He  proposed  that  the  duties  should  be  lev- 
ied, but  should  be  kept  in  the  Exchequer  apart  from  other 
sums  till  the  Parliament  should  meet.  In  this  way  the  King, 
while  violating  the  letter  of  the  law's,  would  show  that  he 
wished  to  conform  to  their  spirit.  Jeffreys  gave  very  differ- 
ent counsel.  He  advised  James  to  put  forth  an  edict  declar- 
ing it  to  be  His  Majesty's  will  and  pleasure  that  the  customs 
should  continue  to  be  paid.  This  advice  was  well  suited  to 
the  King's  temper.  The  judicious  proposition  of  the  Lord 
Keeper  was  rejected  as  worthy  only  of  a  Whig,  or  of  what 
was  still  worse,  a  Trimmer.  A  proclamation,  such  as  the 
Chief-justice  had  suggested,  appeared.  Some  people  expected 
that  a  violent  outbreak  of  public  indignation  would  be  the 
consequence:  but  they  were  deceived.  The  spirit  of  opposi- 
tion had  not  yet  revived  ;  and  the  court  might  safely  venture 
to  take  steps  which,  five  years  before,  would  have  produced  a 
rebellion.  In  the  City  of  London,  lately  so  turbulent,  scarcely 
a  murmur  was  heard.* 

The  proclamation,  which  announced  that  the  customs 
would  still  be  levied,  announced  also  that  a  Parliament  would 
A  Parliament  shortly  meet.  It  was  not  witho.ut  many  misgivings 
called.  ^|ia|.  james  }ia(j  determined  to-. call  the  estates  of  his 

realm  together.  The  moment  was,  indeed,  most  auspicious 
for  a  general  election.  Never  since  the  accession  of  the 
House  of  Stuart  had  the  constituent  bodies  been  so  favorably 
disposed  toward  the  court.  But  the  new  sovereign's  mind 
was  haunted  by  an  apprehension  not  to  be  mentioned,  even  at 
this  distance  of  time,  without  shame  and  indignation.  He 
was  afraid  that  by  summoning  his  Parliament  he  might  incur 
the  displeasure  of  the  King  of  France. 

*  London  Gazette,  Feb.  12,  168f     North's  Life  of  Guildford,  254. 

I.— 27 


418  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

To  the  King  of  France  it  mattered  little  which  of  the  two 
English  factions  triumphed  at  the  elections :  for  all  the  Par- 
Transactions  liaments  which  had  met  since  the  Restoration, 
midtheVrenc"  whatever  might  have  been  their  temper  as  to 
King-  domestic  politics,  had  been  jealous  of  the  growing 

power  of  the  House  of  Bourbon.  On  this  subject  there  was 
little  difference  between  the  Whigs  and  the  sturdy  country 
gentlemen  who  formed  the  main  strength  of  the  Tory  party. 
Lewis  had,  therefore,  spared  neither  bribes  nor  menaces  to 
prevent  Charles  from  convoking  the  Houses;  and  James, 
who  had  from  the  first  been  in  the  secret  of  his  brother's  for- 
eign politics,  had,  in  becoming  King  of  England,  become  also 
a  hireling  and  vassal  of  France. 

Rochester,  Godolphin,  and  Sunderland,  who  now  formed 
the  interior  cabinet,  were  perfectly  aware  that  their  late  mas- 
ter had  been  in  the  habit  of  receiving  money  from  the  court 
of  Versailles.  They  were  consulted  by  James  as  to  the  expe- 
diency of  convoking  the  legislature.  They  acknowledged  the 
importance  of  keeping  Lewis  in  good-humor :  but  it  seemed 
to  them  that  the  calling  of  a  Parliament  was  not  a  matter  of 
choice.  Patient  as  the  nation  appeared  to  be,  there  were  lim- 
its to  its  patience.  The  principle,  that  the  money  of  the  sub- 
ject could  not  be  lawfully  taken  by  the  King  without  the 
assent  of  the  Commons,  was  firmly  rooted  in  the  public  mind  ; 
and  though,  on  an  extraordinary  emergency,  even  Whigs 
might  be  willing  to  pay,  during  a  few  weeks,  duties  not  im- 
posed by  statute,  it  was  certain  that  even  Tories  would  be- 
come refractory  if  such  irregular  taxation  should  continue 
longer  than  the  special  circumstances  which  alone  justified  it. 
The  Houses  then  must  meet ;  and,  since  it  was  so,  the  sooner 
they  were  summoned  the  better.  Even  the  short  delay  which 
would  be  occasioned  by  a  reference  to  Versailles  might  pro- 
duce irreparable  mischief.  Discontent  and  suspicion  would 
spread  fast  through  society.  Halifax  would  complain  that 
the  fundamental  principles  of  the  constitution  were  violated. 
The  Lord  Keeper,  like  a  cowardly  pedantic  special  pleader  as 
he  was,  would  take  the  same  side.  What  might  have  been 
done  with  a  good  grace  would  at  last  be  done  with  a  bad 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  419 

grace.  Those  very  ministers  whom  His  Majesty  most  wished 
to  lower  in  the  public  estimation  would  gain  popularity  at  his 
expense.  The  ill  temper  of  the  nation  might  seriously  affect 
the  result  of  the  elections.  These  arguments  were  unanswer- 
able. The  King,  therefore,  notified  to  the  country  his  inten- 
tion of  holding  a  Parliament.  But  he  was  painfully  anxious 
to  exculpate  himself  from  the  guilt  of  having  acted  unduti- 
fully  and  disrespectfully  toward  France.  He  led  Barillon 
into  a  private  room,  and  there  apologized  for  having  dared 
to  take  so  important  a  step  without  the  previous  sanction  of 
Lewis.  "Assure  your  master,"  said  James,  "of  my  gratitude 
and  attachment.  I  know  that  without  his  protection  I  can 
do  nothing.  I  know  what  troubles  my  brother  brought  on 
himself  by  not  adhering  steadily  to  France.  I  will  take  good 
care  not  to  let  the  Houses  meddle  with  foreign  affairs.  If 
I  see  in  them  any  disposition  to  make  mischief,  I  will  send 
them  about  their  business.  Explain  this  to  my  good  brother. 
I  hope  that  he  will  not  take  it  amiss  that  I  have  acted  with- 
out consulting  him.  He  has  a  right  to  be  consulted ;  and  it 
is  my  wish  to  consult  him  about  -everything.  But  in  this 
case  the  delay  even  of  a  week  might  have  produced  serious 
consequences." 

These  ignominious  excuses  were,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, repeated  by  Rochester.  Barillon  received  them  civilly. 
Rochester,  grown  bolder,  proceeded  to  ask  for  money.  "  It 
will  be  well  laid  out,"  he  said :  "  your  master  cannot  employ 
his  revenues  better.  Represent  to  him  strongly  how  impor- 
tant it  is  that  the  King  of  England  should  be  dependent,  not 
on  his  own  people,  but  on  the  friendship  of  France  alone."* 

Barillon  hastened  to  communicate  to  Lewis  the  wishes  of 
the  English  government ;  but  Lewis  had  already  anticipated 
them.  His  first  act,  after  he  was  apprised  of  the  death  of 
Charles,  was  to  collect  bills  of  exchange  on  England  to  the 
amount  of  five  hundred  thousand  livres,  a  sum  equivalent  to 
about  thirty -seven  thousand  five  hundred  pounds  sterling. 

*  The  chief  authority  for  these  transactions  is  Barillon's  despatch  of  February 
•j^,  1685.  It  will  be  found  in  the  Appendix  to  Mr.  Fox's  History.  See  also  Pres- 
ton's letter  to  James,  dated  April  £f,  1685,  in  Dalrymple. 


420  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

Such  bills  were  not  then  to  be  easily  procured  in  Paris  at  a 
day's  notice.  In  a  few  hours,  however,  the  purchase  was 
effected,  and  a  courier  started  for  London.*  As  soon  as 
Barillon  received  the  remittance,  he  flew  to  Whitehall,  and 
communicated  the  welcome  news.  James  was  not  ashamed 
to  shed,  or  pretend  to  shed,  tears  of  delight  and  gratitude. 
"  Nobody  but  your  King,"  he  said,  "  does  such  kind,  such 
noble  things.  I  never  can  be  grateful  enough.  Assure  him 
that  my  attachment  will  last  to  the  end  of  my  days."  Roch- 
ester, Sunderland,  and  Godolphin  came,  one  after  another,  to 
embrace  the  ambassador,  and  to  whisper  to  him  that  ho  had 
given  new  life  to  their  royal  master,  f 

But  though  James  and  his  three  advisers  were  pleased  with 
the  promptitude  which  Lewis  had  shown,  they  were  by  no 
means  satisfied  with  the  amount  of  the  donation.  As  they 
were  afraid,  however,  that  they  might  give  offence  by  import- 
unate mendicancy,  they  merely  hinted  their  wishes.  They 
declared  that  they  had  no  intention  of  haggling  with  so  gen- 
erous a  benefactor  as  the  French  King,  and  that  they  were 
willing  to  trust  entirely*  to  his  munificence.  They  at  the 
same  time  attempted  to  propitiate  him  by  a  large  sacrifice  of 
national  honor.  It  was  well  known  that  one  chief  end  of  his 
politics  was  to  add  the  Belgian  provinces  to  his  dominions. 
England  was  bound  by  a  treaty,  which  had  been  concluded 
with  Spain  when  Danby  was  Lord  Treasurer,  to  resist  any 
attempt  which  France  might  make  on  those  provinces.  The 
three  ministers  informed  Barillon  that  their  master  consid- 
ered that  treaty  as  no  longer  obligatory.  It  had  been  made, 
they  said,  by  Charles  :  it  might,  perhaps,  have  been  binding 
on  him  ;  but  his  brother  did  not  think  himself  bound  by  it. 
The  most  Christian  King  might,  therefore,  without  any  fear 
of  opposition  from  England,  proceed  to  annex  Brabant  and: 
Hainault  to  his  empire.:}: 

It  was  at  the  same  time  resolved  that  an  extraordinary  em- 
bassy should  be  sent  to  assure  Lewis  of  the  gratitude  and 


*  Lewis  to  Barillon,  Feb.  £{>-,  1685.  f  Barillon,  Feb.  ££,  1685. 

$  Barillon,  Feb.  ||,  1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND. 

affection  of  James.     For  this  mission  was  selected  a  man 
who  did  not  as  yet  occupy  a  very  eminent  posi- 

Churcliill  sent       .  J  fJ  J 

ambassador  to   tion,  but  whose  renown,  strangely  made  up  of  in- 
famy and  glory,  filled,  at  a  later  period,  the  whole 
civilized  world. 

Soon  after  the  Restoration,  in  the  gay  and  dissolute  times 
which  have  been  celebrated  by  the  lively  pen  of  Hamilton, 
James,  young  and  ardent  in  the  pursuit  of  pleas- 
ure, had  been  attracted  by  Arabella  Churchill,  one 
of  the  maids  of  honor  who  waited  on  his  first  wife.  The 
young  lady  was  plain ;  but  the  taste  of  James  was  not  nice, 
and  she  became  his  avowed  mistress.  She  was  the  daughter 
of  a  poor  Cavalier  knight  who  haunted  Whitehall,  and  made 
himself  ridiculous  by  publishing  a  dull  and  affected  folio, 
long  forgotten,  in  praise  of  monarchy  and  monarchs.  The 
necessities  of  the  Churchills  were  pressing ;  their  loyalty  was 
ardent ;  and  their  only  feeling  about  Arabella's  seduction 
seems  to  have  been  joyful  surprise  that  so  homely  a  girl 
should  have  attained  such  high  preferment. 

Her  interest  was  indeed  of  great  use  to  her  relations:  but 
none  of  them  was  so  fortunate  as  her  eldest  brother,  John,  a 
fine  youth,  who  carried  a  pair  of  colors  in  the  Foot  Guards. 
He  rose  fast  in  the  court  and  in  the  army,  and  was  early  dis- 
tinguished as  a  man  of  fashion  and  of  pleasure.  His  stature 
was  commanding,  his  face  handsome,  his  address  singularly 
winning,  yet  of  such  dignity  that  the  most  impertinent  fops 
never  ventured  to  take  any  liberty  with  him;  his  temper, 
even  in  the  most  vexatious  and  irritating  circumstances,  al- 
ways under  perfect  command.  His  education  had  been  so 
much  neglected  that  he  could  not  spell  the  most  common 
words  of  his  own  language ;  but  his  acute  and  vigorous  un- 
derstanding amply  supplied  the  place  of  book-learning.  He 
was  not  talkative ;  but,  when  he  was  forced  to  speak  in  pub- 
lic, his  natural  eloquence  moved  the  envy  of  practised  rheto- 
ricians.* His  courage  was  singularly  cool  and  imperturbable. 

*  Swift,  who  hated  Marlborough,  and  who  was  little  disposed  to  allow  any  merit 
to  those  whom  he  hated,  says,  in  the  famous  letter  to  Crassus,  "  You  are  no  ill 
orator  in  the  Senate." 


422  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

During  many  years  of  anxiety  and  peril,  he  never,  in  any 
emergency,  lost,  even  for  a  moment,  the  perfect  use  of  his 
admirable  judgment. 

In  his  twenty-third  year,  he  was  sent  with  his  regiment  to 
join  the  French  forces,  then  engaged  in  operations  against 
Holland.  His  serene  intrepidity  distinguished  him  among 
thousands  of  brave  soldiers.  His  professional  skill  com- 
manded the  respect  of  veteran  officers.  He  was  publicly 
thanked  at  the  head  of  the  army,  and  received  many  marks 
of  esteem  and  confidence  from  Turenne,  who  was  then  at  the 
height  of  military  glory. 

Unhappily,  the  splendid  qualities  of  John  Churchill  were 
mingled  with  alloy  of  the  most  sordid  kind.  Some  propen- 
sities, whicli  in  youth  are  singularly  ungraceful,  began  very 
early  to  show  themselves  in  him.  He  was  thrifty  in  his  very 
vices,  and  levied  ample  contributions  on  ladies  enriched  by 
the  spoils  of  more  liberal  lovers.  He  was,  during  a  short 
time,  the  object  of  the  violent  but  fickle  fondness  of  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland.  On  one  occasion  he  was  caught  with 
her  by  the  King,  and  was  forced  to  leap  out  of  the  window. 
She  rewarded  this  hazardous  feat  of  gallantry  with  a  present 
of  five  thousand  pounds.  With  this  sum  the  prudent  young 
hero  instantly  bought  an  annuity  of  five  hundred  a  year,  well 
secured  on  landed  property.*  Already  his  private  drawer 
contained  a  hoard  of  broad  pieces  which,  fifty  years  later, 
when  he  was  a  duke,  a  prince  of  the  empire,  and  the  richest 
subject  in  Europe,  remained  untouched.f 

After  the  close  of  the  war  he  was  attached  to  the  house- 
hold of  the  Duke  of  York,  accompanied  his  patron  to  the 
Low  Countries  and  to  Edinburgh,  and  was  rewarded  for  his 
services  with  a  Scotch  peerage  and  with  the  command  of  the 

*  Dartmouth's  note  on  Burnet,  i.,  264.  Chesterfield's  Letters,  Nov.  18,  1748. 
Chesterfield  is  an  unexceptionable  witness ;  for  the  annuity  was  a  charge  on  the 
estate  of  his  grandfather,  Halifax.  I  believe  that  there  is  no  foundation  for  a  dis- 
graceful addition  to  the  story  which  may  be  found  in  Pope : 

"  The  gallant,  too,  to  whom  she  paid  it  down, 
Lived  to  refuse  his  mistress  half  a  crown." 

Curl  calls  this  a  piece  of  travelling  scandal. 
f  Pope  in  Spence's  Anecdotes. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  423 

only  regiment  of  dragoons  which  was  then  on  the  English 
establishment.*  His  wife  had  a  post  in  the  family  of  James's 
younger  daughter,  the  Princess  of  Denmark. 

Lord  Churchill  was  now  sent  as  ambassador  extraordinary 
to  Versailles.  He  had  it  in  charge  to  express  the  warm  grat- 
itude of  the  English  government  for  the  money  which  had 
been  so  generously  bestowed.  It  had  been  originally  intended 
that  he  should,  at  the  same  time,  ask  Lewis  for  a  much  larger 
sum  ;  but,  on  full  consideration,  it  was  apprehended  that  such 
indelicate  greediness  might  disgust  the  benefactor  whose  spon- 
taneous liberality  had  been  so  signally  displayed.  Churchill 
was  therefore  directed  to  confine  himself  to  thanks  for  what 
was  past,  and  to  say  nothing  about  the  future. f 

But  James  and  his  ministers,  even  while  protesting  that 
they  did  not  mean  to  be  importunate,  contrived  to  hint,  very 
intelligibly,  what  they  wished  and  expected.  In  the  French 
ambassador  they  had  a  dexterous,  a  zealous,  and,  perhaps, 
not  a  disinterested  intercessor.  Lewis  made  some  difficul- 
ties, probably  with  the  design  of  enhancing  the  value  of  his 
gifts.  In  a  very  few  weeks,  however,  Barillon  received  from 
Versailles  fifteen  hundred  thousand  livres  more.  This  sum, 
equivalent  to  about  a  hundred  and  twelve  thousand  pounds 
sterling,  he  was  instructed  to  dole  out  cautiously.  He  was 
authorized  to  furnish  the  English  government  with  thirty 
thousand  pounds,  for  the  purpose  of  corrupting  members  of 
the  new  House  of  Commons.  The  rest  he  was  directed  to 
keep  in  reserve  for  some  extraordinary  emergency,  such  as  a 
dissolution  or  an  insurrection.^: 

The  turpitude  of  these  transactions  is  universally  acknowl- 

*  See  the  Historical  Records  of  the  First  or  Royal  Dragoons.  The  appointment 
of  Churchill  to  the  command  of  this  regiment  was  ridiculed  as  an  instance  of  ab- 
surd partiality.  One  lampoon  of  that  time,  which  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen 
in  print,  but  of  which  a  manuscript  copy  is  in  the  British  Museum,  contains  these 

lines : 

"  Let's  cut  our  meat  with  spoons : 
The  sense  is  as  good 
As  that  Churchill  should 
Be  put  to  command  the  dragoons." 

f  Barillon,  Feb.  ££,  1685. 

j  Barillon,  April  ^ ;  Lewis  to  Barillon,  April  £|. 


424  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

edged :  but  their  real  nature  seems  to  be  often  misunder- 
stood :  for,  though  the  foreign  policy  of  the  last  two  kings  of 
the  House  of  Stuart  has  never,  since  the  correspondence  of 
Barillon  was  exposed  to  the  public  eye,  found  an  apologist 
among  us,  there  is  still  a  party  which  labors  to  excuse  their 
domestic  policy.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  between  their  domes- 
tic policy  and  their  foreign  policy  there  was  a  necessary  and 
indissoluble  connection.  If  they  had  upheld,  during  a  single 
year,  the  honor  of  the  country  abroad,  they  would  have  been 
compelled  to  change  the  whole  system  of  their  administration 
at  home.  To  praise  them  for  refusing  to  govern  in  conform- 
ity with  the  sense  of  Parliament,  and  yet  to  blame  them  for 
submitting  to  the  dictation  of  Lewis,  is  inconsistent.  For 
they  had  only  one  choice — to  be  dependent  on  Lewis,  or  to 
be  dependent  on  Parliament. 

James,  to  do  him  justice,  would  gladly  have  found  out  a 
third  way :  but  there  was  none.  He  became  the  slave  of 
France :  but  it  would  be  incorrect  to  represent  him  as  a  con- 
tented slave.  He  had  spirit  enough  to  be  at  times  angry 
with  himself  for  submitting  to  such  thraldom,  and  impatient 
to  break  loose  from  it ;  and  this  disposition  was  studiously 
encouraged  by  the  agents  of  many  foreign  powers. 

His  accession  had  excited  hopes  and  fears  in  every  Conti- 
nental court ;  and  the  commencement  of  his  administration 
was  watched  by  strangers  with  interest  scarcely  less 

Feelings  of  the  "  °  * 

continental      deep  than  that  which  was  felt  by  his  own  subjects. 

governments  .111  i  ,  -, 

toward  Eng-  One  government  alone  wished  that  the  troubles 
which  had,  during  three  generations,  distracted 
England,  might  be  eternal.  All  other  governments,  whether 
republican  or  monarchical,  whether  Protestant  or  Roman  Cath- 
olic, wished  to  see  those  troubles  happily  terminated. 

The  nature  of  the  long  contest  between  the  Stuarts  and 
their  parliaments  was  indeed  very  imperfectly  apprehended 
by  foreign  statesmen :  but  no  statesman  could  fail  to  perceive 
the  effect  which  that  contest  had  produced  on  the  balance  of 
power  in  Europe.  In  ordinary  circumstances,  the  sympathies 
of  the  courts  of  Vienna  and  Madrid  would  doubtless  have 
been  with  a  prince  struggling  against  subjects,  and  especially 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  425 

with  a  Roman  Catholic  prince  struggling  against  heretical 
subjects :  but  all  such  sympathies  were  now  overpowered  by 
a  stronger  feeling.  The  fear  and  hatred  inspired  by  the 
greatness,  the  injustice,  and  the  arrogance  of  the  French  King 
were  at  the  height.  His  neighbors  might  well  doubt  whether 
it  were  more  dangerous  to  be  at  war  or  at  peace  with  him. 
For  in  peace  he  continued  to  plunder  and  to  outrage  them ; 
and  they  had  tried  the  chances  of  war  against  him  in  vain. 
In  this  perplexity  they  looked  with  intense  anxiety  toward 
England.  Would  she  act  on  the  principles  of  the  Triple  Al- 
liance or  on  the  principles  of  the  treaty  of  Dover  ?  On  that 
issue  depended  the  fate  of  all  her  neighbors.  With  her  help 
Lewis  might  yet  be  withstood  ;  but  no  help  could  be  expected 
from  her  till  she  was  at  unity  with  herself.  Before  the  strife 
between  the  Throne  and  the  Parliament  began,  she  had  been 
a  power  of  the  first  rank :  on  the  day  on  which  that  strife 
terminated  she  became  a  power  of  the  first  rank  again ;  but 
while  the  dispute  remained  undecided,  she  was  condemned 
to  inaction  and  to  vassalage.  She  had  been  great  under  the 
Plantagenets  and  Tudors :  she  was  again  great  under  the 
princes  who  reigned  after  the  Revolution :  but,  under  the 
kings  of  the  House  of  Stuart,  she  was  a  blank  in  the  map  of 
Europe.  She  had  lost  one  class  of  energies,  and  had  not  yet 
acquired  another.  That  species  of  force,  which,  in  the  four^ 
teenth  century,  had  enabled  her  to  humble  France  and  Spain, 
had  ceased  to  exist.  That  species  of  force,  which,  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  humbled  France  and  Spain  once  more, 
had  not  yet  been  called  into  action.  The  government  was  no 
longer  a  limited  monarchy  after  the  fashion  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  It  had  not  yet  become  a  limited  monarchy  after  the 
modern  fashion.  With  the  vices  of  two  different  systems,  it 
had  the  strength  of  neither.  The  elements  of  our  polity,  in- 
stead of  combining  in  harmony,  counteracted  and  neutralized 
each  other.  All  was  transition,  conflict,  and  disorder.  The 
chief  business  of  the  sovereign  was  to  infringe  the  privileges 
of  the  legislature.  The  chief  business  of  the  legislature  was 
to  encroach  on  the  prerogatives  of  the  sovereign.  The  King 
readily  accepted  foreign  aid,  which  relieved  him  from  the 


426  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

f- 

misery  of  being  dependent  on  a  mutinous  parliament.  The 
Parliament  refused  to  the  King  the  means  of  supporting  the 
national  honor  abroad,  from  an  apprehension,  too  well  found- 
ed, that  those  means  might  be  employed  in  order  to  establish 
despotism  at  home.  The  effect  of  these  jealousies  was  that 
our  country,  with  all  her  vast  resources,  was  of  as  little  weight 
in  Christendom  as  the  duchy  of  Savoy  or  the  duchy  of  Lor- 
raine, and  certainly  of  far  less  weight  than  the  small  province 
of  Holland. 

France  was  deeply  interested  in  prolonging  this  state  of 
things.*  All  other  powers  were  deeply  interested  in  bring- 
poiicy  of  the  mg  it  to  a  close.  The  general  wish  of  Europe  was 
court  of  Rome,  fa^  James  would  govern  in  conformity  with  law 
and  with  public  opinion.  From  the  Escurial  itself  came  let- 
ters, expressing  an  earnest  hope  that  the  new  King  of  Eng- 
land would  be  on  good  terms  with  his  Parliament  and  his  peo- 
ple.f  From  the  Vatican  itself  came  cautions  against  immod- 
erate zeal  for  the  Roman  Catholic  faith.  Benedict  Odescalchi, 
who  filled  the  papal  chair  under  the  name  of  Innocent  the 
Eleventh,  felt,  in  his  character  of  temporal  sovereign,  all  those 
apprehensions  with  which  other  princes  watched  the  progress 
of  the  French  power.  He  had  also  grounds  of  uneasiness 

*  I  might  transcribe  half  Barillon's  correspondence  in  proof  of  this  proposition : 
but  I  will  quote  only  one  passage,  in  which  the  policy  of  the  French  government 
toward  England  is  exhibited  concisely  and  with  perfect  clearness. 

"  On  peut  tenir  pour  un  maxime  indubitable  que  1'accord  du  Roy  d'Angleterre 
avec  son  parlement,  en  quelque  maniere  qu'il  se  fasse,  n'est  pas  conforme  aux 
interets  de  V.  M.  Je  me  contente  de  penser  cela  sans  m'en  ouvrir  a  personne,  et 
je  cache  avec  soin  mes  sentimens  a  cet  e'gard." — Barillon  to  Lewis,  jg^jr  1687. 
That  this  was  the  real  secret  of  the  whole  policy  of  Lewis  toward  our  country  was 
perfectly  understood  at  Vienna.  The  Emperor  Leopold  wrote  thus  to  James,  'AfT'tl  9' 
1689  :  "Galli  id  unum  agebant,  ut,  perpetuas  inter  Serenitatem  vestram  et  ejusdem 
populos  fovendo  simultates,  reliquse  Christiana)  Europae  tanto  securius  insultarent." 

f  "  Que  sea  unido  con  su  reyno,  y  en  todo  buena  intelligencia  con  el  parlamen- 
to." — Despatch  from  the  King  of  Spain  to  Don  Pedro  Ronquillo,  March  !f,  1685. 
This  despatch  is  in  the  archives  of  Simancas,  which  contain  a  great  mass  of  papers 
relating  to  English  affairs.  Copies  of  the  most  interesting  of  those  papers  are  in 
the  possession  of  M.  Guizot,  and  were  by  him  lent  to  me.  It  is  with  peculiar 
pleasure  that,  at  this  time,  I  acknowledge  this  mark  of  the  friendship  of  so  great 
a  man  (1848). 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  427 

which  were  peculiar  to  himself.  It  was  a  happy  circumstance 
for  the  Protestant  religion  that,  at  the  moment  when  the  last 
Roman  Catholic  King  of  England  mounted  the  throne,  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  was  torn  by  dissension,  and  threaten- 
ed with  a  new  schism.  A  quarrel  similar  to  that  which  had 
raged  in  the  eleventh  century  between  the  Emperors  and  the 
Supreme  Pontiffs  had  arisen  between  Lewis  and  Innocent. 
Lewis,  zealous  even  to  bigotry  for  the  doctrines  of  the  Church 
of  Rome,  but  tenacious  of  his  regal  authority,  accused  the  Pope 
of  encroaching  on  the  secular  rights  of  the  French  crown,  and 
was  in  turn  accused  by  the  Pope  of  encroaching  on  the  spirit- 
ual power  of  the  keys.  The  King,  haughty  as  he  was,  encoun- 
tered a  spirit  even  more  determined  than  his  own.  Innocent 
was,  in  all  private  relations,  the  meekest  and  gentlest  of  men ; 
but,  when  he  spoke  officially  from  the  chair  of  Saint  Peter, 
he  spoke  in  the  tones  of  Gregory  the  Seventh  and  of  Sixtus 
the  Fifth.  The  dispute  became  serious.  Agents  of  the  King 
were  excommunicated.  Adherents  of  the  Pope  were  banish- 
ed. The  King  made  the  champions  of  his  authority  bishops. 
The  Pope  refused  them  institution.  They  took  possession  of 
the  episcopal  palaces  and  revenues ;  but  they  were  incompe- 
tent to  perform  the  episcopal  functions.  Before  the  struggle 
terminated,  there  were  in  France  thirty  prelates  who  could 
not  confirm  or  ordain.* 

Had  any  prince  then  living,  except  Lewis,  been  engaged 
in  such  a  dispute  with  the  Vatican,  he  would  have  had  all 
Protestant  governments  on  his  side.  But  the  fear  and  resent- 
ment which  the  ambition  and  insolence  of  the  French  King 
had  inspired  were  such  that  whoever  had  the  courage  man- 
fully to  oppose  him  was  sure  of  public  sympathy.  Even  Lu- 
therans and  Calvinists,  who  had  always  detested  the  Pope, 
could  not  refrain  from  wishing  him  success  against  a  tyrant 
who  aimed  at  universal  monarchy.  It  was  thus  that,  in  the 
present  century,  many  who  regarded  Pius  the  Seventh  as  An- 


*  Few  English  readers  will  be  desirous  to  go  deep  into  the  history  of  this  quar- 
rel. Summaries  will  be  found  in  Cardinal  Bausset's  Life  of  Bossuet,  and  in  Vol- 
taire's Age  of  Lewis  XIV. 


428  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

tichrist  were  well  pleased  to  see  Antichrist  confront  the  gi- 
gantic power  of  Napoleon. 

The  resentment  which  Innocent  felt  toward  France  disposed 
him  to  take  a  mild  and  liberal  view  of  the  affairs  of  England. 
The  return  of  the  English  people  to  the  fold  of  which  he  was 
the  shepherd  would  undoubtedly  have  rejoiced  his  soul.  But 
he  was  too  wise  a  man  to  believe  that  a  nation,  so  bold  and 
stubborn,  could  be  brought  back  to  the  Church  of  Rome  by 
the  violent  and  unconstitutional  exercise  of  royal  authority. 
It  was  not  difficult  to  foresee  that,  if  James  attempted  to 
promote  the  interests  of  his  religion  by  illegal  and  unpop- 
ular means,  the  attempt  would  fail ;  the  hatred  with  which 
the  heretical  islanders  regarded  the  true  faith  would  become 
fiercer  and  stronger  than  ever;  and  an  indissoluble  associa- 
tion would  be  created  in  their  minds  between  Protestantism 
and  civil  freedom,  between  Popery  and  arbitrary  power.  In 
the  mean  time  the  King  would  be  an  object  of  aversion  and 
suspicion  to  his  people.  England  would  still  be,  as  she  had 
been  under  James  the  First,  under  Charles  the  First,  and  un- 
der Charles  the  Second,  a  power  of  the  third  rank;  and 
France  would  domineer  unchecked  beyond  the  Alps  and  the 
Rhine.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  probable  that  James,  by 
acting  with  prudence  and  moderation,  by  strictly  observing 
the  laws,  and  by  exerting  himself  to  win  the  confidence  of  his 
Parliament,  might  be  able  to  obtain,  for  the  professors  of  his 
religion,  a  large  measure  of  relief.  Penal  statutes  wrould  go 
first.  Statutes  imposing  civil  incapacities  would  soon  follow. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  English  King  and  the  English  nation 
united  might  head  the  European  coalition,  and  might  oppose 
an  insuperable  barrier  to  the  cupidity  of  Lewis. 

Innocent  was  confirmed  in  his  judgment  by  the  principal 
Englishmen  who  resided  at  his  court.  Of  these  the  most  illus- 
trious was  Philip  Howard,  sprung  from  the  noblest  houses  of 
Britain,  grandson,  on  one  side,  of  an  Earl  of  Arundel,  on  the 
other,  of  a  Duke  of  Lennox.  Philip  had  long  been  a  member 
of  the  Sacred  College:  he  was  commonly  designated  as  the 
Cardinal  of  England ;  and  he  was  the  chief  counsellor  of  the 
Holy  See  in  matters  relating  to  his  country.  He  had  been 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  429 

driven  into  exile  by  the  outcry  of  Protestant  bigots ;  and  a 
member  of  his  family,  the  unfortunate  Stafford,  had  fallen  a 
victim  to  their  rage.  But  neither  the  cardinal's  own  wrongs, 
nor  those  of  his  house,  had  so  heated  his  mind  as  to  make  him 
a  rash  adviser.  Every  letter,  therefore,  which  went  from  the 
Vatican  to  Whitehall,  recommended  patience,  moderation,  and 
respect  for  the  prejudices  of  the  English  people.* 

In  the  mind  of  James  there  was  a  great  conflict.  We 
should  do  him  injustice  if  we  supposed  that  a  state  of  vassal- 
strusKie  in  the  age  was  agreeable  to  his  temper.  He  loved  author 

mind  of  James.    Jty  an(j  kusjness<       JJe  ]ia(J  a  high  gense  Qf  his  OWH 

personal  dignity.  Nay,  he  was  not  altogether  destitute  of  a 
sentiment  which  bore  some  affinity  to  patriotism.  It  galled 
his  soul  to  think  that  the  kingdom  which  he  ruled  was  of  far 
less  account  in  the  world  than  many  states  which  possessed 
smaller  natural  advantages ;  and  he  listened  eagerly  to  foreign 
ministers  when  they  urged  him  to  assert  the  dignity  of  his 
rank,  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  a  great  confederacy,  to 
become  the  protector  of  injured  nations,  and  to  tame  the  pride 
of  that  power  which  held  the  Continent  in  awe.  Such  ex- 
hortations made  his  heart  swell  with  emotions  unknown  to 
his  careless  and  effeminate  brother.  But  those  emotions  were 
soon  subdued  by  a  stronger  feeling.  A  vigorous  foreign  pol- 
icy necessarily  implied  a  conciliatory  domestic  policy.  It  was 
impossible  at  once  to  confront  the  might  of  France  and  to 
trample  on  the  liberties  of  England.  The  executive  govern- 
ment could  undertake  nothing  great  without  the  support  of 
the  Commons,  and  could  obtain  their  support  only  by  acting 
in  conformity  with  their  opinion.  Thus  James  found  that 
Fluctuations  of  *ne  *wo  things  which  he  most  desired  could  not 
impolicy.  j^  enjOyeci  together.  His  second  wish  was  to  be 
feared  and  respected  abroad.  But  his  first  wish  was  to  be 
absolute  master  at  home.  Between  the  incompatible  objects 
on  which  his  heart  was  set,  he,  for  a  time,  went  irresolutely 
to  and  fro.  The  conflict  in  his  own  breast  gave  to  his  public 


*  Burnet,  i.,  661,  and  Letter  from  Rome;   Dodd's  Church  History,  Part  VIII., 
Book  I.,  Art.  1. 


430  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

acts  a  strange  appearance  of  indecision  and  insincerity.  Those 
who,  without  the  clue,  attempted  to  explore  the  maze  of  his 
politics  were  unable  to  understand  how  the  same  man  could 
be,  in  the  same  week,  so  haughty  and  so  mean.  Even  Lewis 
was  perplexed  by  the  vagaries  of  an  ally  who  passed,  in  a  few 
hours,  from  homage  to  defiance,  and  from  defiance  to  homage. 
Yet,  now  that  the  whole  conduct  of  James  is  before  us,  this 
inconsistency  seems  to  admit  of  a  simple  explanation. 

At  the  moment  of  his  accession  he  was  in  doubt  whether 
the  kingdom  would  peaceably  submit  to  his  authority.  The 
Exclusionists,  lately  so  powerful,  might  rise  in  arms  against 
him.  He  might  be  in  great  need  of  French  money  and 
French  troops.  He  was  therefore,  during  some  days,  content 
to  be  a  sycophant  and  a  mendicant.  He  humbly  apologized 
for  daring  to  call  his  Parliament  together  without  the  consent 
of  the  French  government.  He  begged  hard  for  a  French 
subsidy.  He  wept  with  joy  over  the  French  bills  of  ex- 
change. He  sent  to  Versailles  a  special  embassy  charged  with 
assurances  of  his  gratitude,  attachment,  and  submission.  But 
scarcely  had  the  embassy  departed  when  his  feelings  under- 
went a  change.  He  had  been  everywhere  proclaimed  without 
one  riot,  without  one  seditious  outcry.  From  all  corners  of 
the  island  he  received  intelligence  that  his  subjects  were  tran- 
quil and  obedient.  His  spirit  rose.  The  degrading  relation 
in  which  he  stood  to  a  foreign  power  seemed  intolerable.  He 
became  proud,  punctilious,  boastful,  quarrelsome.  He  held 
such  high  language  about  the  dignity  of  his  crown  and  the 
balance  of  power  that  his  whole  court  fully  expected  a  com- 
plete revolution  in  the  foreign  politics  of  the  realm.  He 
commanded  Churchill  to  send  home  a  minute  report  of  the 
ceremonial  of  Versailles,  in  order  that  the  honors  with  which 
the  English  embassy  was  received  there  might  be  repaid,  and 
not  more  than  repaid,  to  the  representative  of  France  at 
Whitehall.  The  news  of  this  change  was  received  with  de- 
light at  Madrid,  Vienna,  and  the  Hague.*  Lewis  was  at  first 


*  Consultations  of  the  Spanish  Council  of  State  on  April  fa  and  April  £|,  1685, 
jn  the  Archives  of  Simancas. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  431 

merely  diverted.  "  My  good  ally  talks  big,"  he  said ;  "  but 
he  is  as  fond  of  my  pistoles  as  ever  his  brother  was."  Soon, 
however,  the  altered  demeanor  of  James,  and  the  hopes  with 
which  that  demeanor  inspired  both  the  branches  of  the  House 
of  Austria,  began  to  call  for  more  serious  notice.  A  remark- 
able letter  is  still  extant,  in  which  the  French  King  intimated 
a  strong  suspicion  that  he  had  been  duped,  and  that  the  very 
money  which  he  had  sent  to  Westminster  would  be  employed 
against  him.* 

By  this  time  England  had  recovered  from  the  sadness  and 
anxiety  caused  by  the  death  of  the  good-natured  Charles. 
The  Tories  were  loud  in  professions  of  attachment  to  their 
new  master.  The  hatred  of  the  Whigs  was  kept  down  by 
fear.  That  great  mass  which  is  not  steadily  Whig  or  Tory, 
but  which  inclines  alternately  to  Whiggism  and  to  Toryism, 
was  still  on  the  Tory  side.  The  reaction  which  had  followed 
the  dissolution  of  the  Oxford  parliament  had  not  yet  spent 
its  force. 

The  King  early  put  the  loyalty  of  his  Protestant  friends  to 
the  proof.  While  he  was  a  subject,  he  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  hearing  mass  with  closed  doors  in  a  small  oratory 
Cation  of  the  which  had  been  fitted  up  for  his  wife.  He  now 
ifc  rites  in  the  ordered  the  doors  to  be  thrown  open,  in  order  that 
all  who  came  to  pay  their  duty  to  him  might  see 
the  ceremony.  When  the  host  was  elevated  there  was  a 
strange  confusion  in  the  antechamber.  The  Roman  Catholics 
fell  on  their  knees :  the  Protestants  hurried  out  of  the  room. 
Soon  a  new  pulpit  was  erected  in  the  palace ;  and,  during 
Lent,  a  series  of  sermons  was  preached  there  by  Popish  di- 
vines, to  the  great  discomposure  of  zealous  churchmen.f 

A  more  serious  innovation  followed.  Passion-week  came ; 
and  the  King  determined  to  hear  mass  with  the  same  pomp 
with  which  his  predecessors  had  been  surrounded  when  they 
repaired  to  the  temples  of  the  established  religion.  He  an- 

*  Lewis  to  Barillon,  £•£-"'  1685 ;  Burnet,  i.,  623. 

f  Life  of  James  the  Second,  ii.,  5  ;  Barillon,  ^f  1685 ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  March 
5, 168f 


432  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

nouneed  his  intention  to  the  three  members  of  the  interior 
cabinet,  and  requested  them  to  attend  him.  Sunderland,  to 
whom  all  religions  were  the  same,  readily  consented.  Go- 
dolphin,  as  Chamberlain  of  the  Queen,  had  already  been  in 
the  habit  of  giving  her  his  hand  when  she  repaired  to  her 
oratory,  and  felt  no  scruple  about  bowing  himself  officially 
in  the  house  of  Blmmon.  But  Rochester  was  greatly  dis- 
turbed. His  influence  in  the  country  arose  chiefly  from  the 
opinion  entertained  by  the  clergy  and  by  the  Tory  gentry, 
that  he  was  a  zealous  and  uncompromising  friend  of  the 
Church.  His  orthodoxy  had  been  considered  as  fully  aton- 
ing for  faults  which  would  otherwise  have  made  him  the  most 
unpopular  man  in  the  kingdom,  for  boundless  arrogance,  for 
extreme  violence  of  temper,  and  for  manners  almost  brutal/"" 
He  feared  that,  by  complying  with  the  royal  wishes,  he  should 
greatly  lower  himself  in  the  estimation  of  his  party.  After 
some  altercation  he  obtained  permission  to  pass  the  holidays 
out  of  town.  All  the  other  great  civil  dignitaries  were  or- 
dered to  be  at  their  posts  on  Easter  .Sunday.  The  rites  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  were  once  more,  after  an  interval  of  a 
hundred  and  twenty-seven  years,  performed  at  Westminster 
with  regal  splendor.  The  Guards  were  drawn  out.  The 
Knights  of  the  Garter  wore  their  collars.  The  Duke  of  Som- 
erset, second  in  rank  among  the  temporal  nobles  of  the  realm, 
carried  the  sword  of  state.  A  long  train  of  great  lords  ac- 
companied the  King  to  his  seat.  But  it  was  remarked  that 
Ormond  and  Halifax  remained  in  the  antechamber.  A  feu- 
years  before  they  had  gallantly  defended  the  cause  of  James 
against  some  of  those  who  now  pressed  past  them.  Ormond 
had  borne  no  share  in  the  slaughter  of  Roman  Catholics. 
Halifax  had  courageously  pronounced  Stafford  not  guilty. 
As  the  time-servers  who  had  pretended  to  shudder  at  the 
thought  of  a  Popish  king,  and  who  had  shed  without  pity 
the  innocent  blood  of  a  Popish  peer,  now  elbowed  each  other 

*  "  To  those  that  ask  boons 

He  swears  by  God's  oons, 
And  chides  them  as  if  they  came  there  to  steal  spoons." 

Lamentable  Lory,  a  ballad,  1684. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  433 

to  get  near  a  Popish  altar,  the  accomplished  Trimmer  might, 
with  some  justice,  indulge  his  solitary  pride  in  that  unpopu- 
lar nickname.* 

Within  a  week  after  this  ceremony  James  made  a  far 
greater  sacrifice  of  his  own  religions  prejudices  than  he  had 
His  corona-  yet  called  on  any  of  his  Protestant  subjects  to 
tion-  make.  He  was  crowned  on  the  twenty -third  of 

April,  the  feast  of  the  patron  saint  of  the  realm.  The  Abbey 
and  the  Hall  were  splendidly  decorated.  The  presence  of 
the  Queen  and  of  the  peeresses  gave  to  the  solemnity  a  charm 
which  had  been  wanting  to  the  magnificent  inauguration  of 
the  late  King.  Yet  those  who  remembered  that  inaugura- 
tion pronounced  that  there  was  a  great  falling  off.  The  an- 
cient usage  was  that,  before  a  coronation,  the  sovereign,  with 
all  his  heralds,  judges,  councillors,  lords,  and  great  dignitaries, 
should  ride  in  state  from  the  Tower  to  Westminster.  Of 
these  cavalcades  the  last  and  the  most  glorious  was  that  which 
passed  through  the  capital  while  the  feelings  excited  by  the 
Restoration  were  still  in  full  vigor.  Arches  of  triumph  over- 
hung the  road.  All  Cornhill,  Cheapside,  Saint  Paul's  Church- 
yard, Fleet  Street,  and  the  Strand,  were  lined  with  scaffold- 
ing. The  whole  city  had  thus  been  admitted  to  gaze  on  roy- 
alty in  the  most  splendid  and  solemn  form  that  royalty  could 
wear.  James  ordered  an  estimate  to  be  made  of  the  cost  of 
such  a  procession,  and  found  that  it  would  amount  to  about 
half  as  much  as  he  proposed  to  expend  in  covering  his  wife 
with  trinkets.  He  accordingly  determined  to  be  profuse 
where  he  ought  to  have  been  frugal,  and  niggardly  where 
he  might  pardonably  have  been  profuse.  More  than  a  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  were  laid  out  in  dressing  the  Queen, 
and  the  procession  from  the  Tower  was  omitted.  The  folly 
of  this  course  is  obvious.  If  pageantry  be  of  any  use  in  poli- 
tics, it  is  of  use  as  a  means  of  striking  the  imagination  of  the 
multitude.  It  is  surely  the  height  of  absurdity  to  shut  out 
the  populace  from  a  show  of  which  the  main  object  is  to 
make  an  impression  on  the  populace.  James  would  have 

*  Barillon,  April  f#,  1685. 

I.— 28 


434  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

shown  a  more  judicious  munificence  and  a  more  judicious 
parsimony,  if  he  had  traversed  London  from  cast  to  west  with 
the  accustomed  pomp,  and  had  ordered  the  robes  of  his  wife 
to  be  somewhat  less  thickly  set  with  pearls  and  diamonds. 
His  example  was,  however,  long  followed  by  his  successors ; 
and  sums,  which,  well  employed,  would  have  afforded  ex- 
quisite gratification  to  a  large  part  of  the  nation,  were  squan- 
dered on  an  exhibition  to  which  only  three  or  four  thousand 
privileged  persons  were  admitted.  At  length  the  old  prac- 
tice was  partially  revived.  On  the  day  of  the  coronation  of 
Queen  Victoria  there  was  a  procession  in  which  many  defi- 
ciencies might  be  noted,  but  which  was  seen  with  interest 
and  delight  by  half  a  million  of  her  subjects,  and  which 
undoubtedly  gave  far  greater  pleasure,  and  called  forth  far 
greater  enthusiasm,  than  the  more  costly  display  which  was 
witnessed  by  a  select  circle  within  the  Abbey. 

James  had  ordered  Sancroft  to  abridge  the  ritual.  The 
reason  publicly  assigned  was  that  the  day  was  too  short  for 
all  that  was  to  be  done.  But  whoever  examines  the  changes 
which  were  made  will  see  that  the  real  object  was  to  remove 
some  things  highly  offensive  to  the  religious  feelings  of  a 
zealous  Roman  Catholic.  The  Communion  Service  was  not 
read.  The  ceremony  of  presenting  the  sovereign  with  a 
richly  bound  copy  of  the  English  Bible,  and  of  exhorting  him 
to  prize  above  all  earthly  treasures  a  volume  which  he  had 
been  taught  to  regard  as  adulterated  with  false  doctrine,  was 
omitted.  What  remained,  however,  after  all  this  curtailment, 
might  well  have  raised  scruples  in  the  mind  of  a  man  who 
sincerely  believed  the  Church  of  England  to  be  a  heretical 
society,  within  the  pale  of  which  salvation  was  not  to  be 
found.  The  King  made  an  oblation  on  the  altar.  He  ap- 
peared to  join  in  the  petitions  of  the  Litany  which  was 
chanted  by  the  bishops.  He  received  from  those  false  proph- 
ets the  unction  typical  of  a  divine  influence,  and  knelt  with 
the  semblance  of  devotion  while  they  called  do\vn  upon  him 
that  Holy  Spirit  of  which  they  were,  in  his  estimation,  the 
malignant  and  obdurate  foes.  Such  are  the  inconsistencies 
of  human  nature  that  this  man,  who,  from  a  fanatical  zeal  for 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  4:35 

his  religion,  threw  away  three  kingdoms,  yet  chose  to  commit 
what  was  little  short  of  an  act  of  apostasy,  rather  than  forego 
the  childish  pleasure  of  being  invested  with  the  gewgaws 
symbolical  of  kingly  power.* 

Francis  Turner,  Bishop  of  Ely,  preached.  He  was  one  of 
those  writers  who  still  affected  the  obsolete  style  of  Arch- 
bishop Williams  and  Bishop  Andrews.  The  sermon  was 
made  up  of  quaint  conceits,  such  as  seventy  years  earlier 
might  have  been  admired,  but  such  as  moved  the  scorn  of 
a  generation  accustomed  to  the  purer  eloquence  of  Sprat,  of 
South,  and  of  Tillotson.  King  Solomon  was  King  James. 
Adonijah  was  Monmouth.  Joab  was  a  Rye  House  conspira- 
tor ;  Shimei,  a  Whig  libeller ;  Abiathar,  an  honest  but  mis- 
guided old  Cavalier.  One  phrase  in  the  Book  of  Chronicles 
was  construed  to  mean  that  the  King  was  above  the  Parlia- 
ment ;  and  another  was  cited  to  prove  that  he  alone  ought  to 
command  the  militia.  Toward  the  close  of  the  discourse  the 
orator  very  timidly  alluded  to  the  new  and  embarrassing  po- 
sition in  which  the  Church  stood  with  reference  to  the  sover- 
eign, and  reminded  his  hearers  that  the  Emperor  Constantius 
Chlorus,  though  not  himself  a  Christian,  had  held  in  honor 
those  Christians  who  remained  true  to  their  religion,  and  had 
treated  with  scorn  those  who  sought  to  earn  his  favor  by 
apostasy.  The  service  in  the  Abbey  was  followed  by  a 
stately  banquet  in  the  Hall,  the  banquet  by  brilliant  fire- 
works, and  the  fireworks  by  much  bad  poetry,  f 

*  From  Adda's  despatch  of  3™^'  1686,  and  from  the  expressions  of  the  Pere 
d'Orleans  (Histoire  des  Revolutions  d'Angleterre,  liv.  xi.),  it  is  clear  that  rigid 
Catholics  thought  the  King's  conduct  indefensible. 

f  London  Gazette ;  Gazette  de  France ;  Life  of  James  the  Second,  ii.,  10 ;  His- 
tory of  the  Coronation  of  King  James  the  Second  and  Queen  Mary,  by  Francis 
Sandford,  Lancaster  Herald,  fol.,  1687 ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  May  21,  1685 ;  Despatch  of 
the  Dutch  Ambassadors,  April  i£,  1685  ;  Burnet,  i.,  628  ;  Eachard,  iii.,  734 ;  A  ser- 
mon preached  before  their  Majesties  King  James  the  Second  and  Queen  Mary  at 
their  Coronation  in  Westminster  Abbey,  April  23,  1685,  by  Francis,  Lord  Bishop 
of  Ely,  and  Lord  Almoner.  I  have  seen  an  Italian  account  of  the  Coronation, 
which  was  published  at  Modena,  and  which  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  skill  with 
which  the  writer  sinks  the  fact  that  the  prayers  and  psalms  were  in  English,  and 
that  the  Bishops  were  heretics. 


436  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

This  may  be  fixed  upon  as  the  moment  at  which  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  Tory  party  reached  the  zenith.  Ever  since  the 
Enthusiasm  of  accessi°n  °f  the  new  King,  addresses  had  been  pour- 
tiie  Tones.  jng  jn  wnich.  expressed  profound  veneration  for  his 
Addresses.  person  and  office,  and  bitter  detestation  of  the  van- 
quished Whigs.  The  magistrates  of  Middlesex  thanked  God 
for  having  confounded  the  designs  of  those  regicides  and  ex- 
clusionists  who,  not  content  witli  having  murdered  one  blessed 
monarch,  were  bent  on  destroying  the  foundations  of  mon- 
archy. The  city  of  Gloucester  execrated  the  blood-thirsty  vil- 
lains who  had  tried  to  deprive  His  Majesty  of  his  just  inher- 
itance. The  burgesses  of  Wigan  assured  their  sovereign  that 
they  would  defend  him  against  all  plotting  Achitpphels  and 
rebellious  Absaloms.  The  grand  jury  of  Suffolk  expressed 
a  hope  that  the  Parliament  would  proscribe  all  the  exclusion- 
ists.  Many  corporations  pledged  themselves  never  to  return 
to  the  House  of  Commons  any  person  who  had  voted  for 
taking  away  the  birthright  of  James.  Even  the  capital  was 
profoundly  obsequious.  The  lawyers  and  the  traders  vied 
with  each  other  in  servility.  Inns  of  Court  and  Inns  of 
Chancery  sent  up  fervent  professions  of  attachment  and  sub- 
mission. All  the  great  commercial  societies,  the  East  India 
Company,  the  African  Company,  the  Turkey  Company,  the 
Muscovy  Company,  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  the  Mary- 
land Merchants,  the  Jamaica  Merchants,  the  Merchant  Ad- 
venturers, declared  that  they  most  cheerfully  complied  with 
the  royal  edict  which  required  them  still  to  pay  custom. 
Bristol,  the  second  city  of  the  island,  echoed  the  voice  of  Lon- 
don. But  nowhere  was  the  spirit  of  loyalty  stronger  than  in 
the  two  Universities.  Oxford  declared  that  she  would  never 
swerve  from  those  religious  principles  which  bound  her  to 
obey  the  King  without  any  restrictions  or  limitations.  Cam-' 
bridge  condemned,  in  severe  terms,  the  violence  and  treach- 
ery of  those  turbulent  men  who  had  maliciously  endeavored 
to  turn  the  stream  of  succession  out  of  the  ancient  channel.* 


*  See  the  London  Gazette  during  the  months  of  February,  March,  and  April, 
1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  437 

Such  addresses  as  these  filled,  during  a  considerable  time, 

every  number  of  the  London  Gazette.     But  it  was  not  only 

by  addressing  that  the  Tories  showed  their  zeal. 

The  elections.        *  ° 

I  he  writs  lor  the  new  Parliament  had  gone  forth, 
and  the  country  was  agitated  by  the  tumult  of  a  general  elec- 
tion. No  election  had  ever  taken  place  under  circumstances 
so  favorable  to  the  court.  Hundreds  of  thousands  whom  the 
Popish  Plot  had  scared  into  Whiggism  had  been  scared  back 
by  the  Rye-house  Plot  into  Toryism.  In  the  counties  the 
government  could  depend  on  an  overwhelming  majority  of 
the  gentlemen  of  three  hundred  a  year  and  upward,  and  on 
the  clergy  almost  to  a  man.  Those  boroughs  which  had  once 
been  the  citadels  of  Whiggism  had  recently  been  deprived  of 
their  charters  by  legal  sentence,  or  had  prevented  the  sen- 
tence by  voluntary  surrender.  They  had  now  been  reconsti- 
tuted in  such  a  manner  that  they  were  certain  to  return  mem- 
bers devoted  to  the  crown.  Where  the  townsmen  could  not 
be  trusted,  the  freedom  had  been  bestowed  on  the  neighbor- 
ing squires.  In  some  of  the  small  western  corporations,  the 
constituent  bodies  were  in  great  part  composed  of  Captains 
and  Lieutenants  of  the  Guards.  The  returning  officers  were 
almost  everywhere  in  the  interest  of  the  court.  In  every 
shire  the  Lord  Lieutenant  and  his  deputies  formed  a  power- 
ful, active,  and  vigilant  committee,  for  the  purpose  of  cajol- 
ing and  intimidating  the  freeholders.  The  people  were  sol- 
emnly warned  from  thousands  of  pulpits  not  to  vote  for  any 
Whig  candidate,  as  they  should  answer  it  to  Him  who  had 
ordained  the  powers  that  be,  and  who  had  pronounced  re- 
bellion a  sin  not  less  deadly  than  witchcraft.  All  these  ad- 
vantages the  predominant  party  not  only  used  to  the  utmost, 
but  abused  in  so  shameless  a  manner  that  grave  and  reflecting 
men,  who  had  been  true  to  the  monarchy  in  peril,  and  who 
bore  no  love  to  republicans  and  schismatics,  stood  aghast,  and 
augured  from  such  beginnings  the  approach  of  evil  times.* 

*  It  would  be  easy  to  fill  a  volume  with  what  Whig  historians  and  pamphleteers 
have  written  on  this  subject.  I  will  cite  only  one  witness,  a  churchman  and  a 
Tory.  "  Elections,"  says  Evelyn,  "  were  thought  to  be  very  indecently  carried  on 
in  most  places.  God  give  a  better  issue  of  it  than  some  expect!"  (May  10,  1685). 


438  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

Yet  the  Whigs,  though  suffering  the  just  punishment  of 
their  errors,  though  defeated,  disheartened,  and  disorganized, 
did  not  yield  without  an  effort.  They  were  still  numerous 
among  the  traders  and  artisans  of  the  towns,  and  among  the 
yeomanry  and  peasantry  of  the  open  country.  In  some  dis- 
tricts, in  Dorsetshire,  for  example,  and  in  Somersetshire,  they 
were  the  great  majority  of  the  population.  In  the  remodelled 
boroughs  they  could  do  nothing :  but,  in  every  county  where 
they  had  a  chance,  they  struggled  desperately.  In  Bedford- 
shire, which  had  lately  been  represented  by  the  virtuous  and 
unfortunate  Russell,  they  were  victorious  on  the  show  of 
hands,  but  were  beaten  at  the  poll.*  In  Essex  they  polled 
thirteen  hundred  votes  to  eighteen  hundred.f  At  the  elec- 
tion for  Northamptonshire  the  common  people  were  so  vio- 
lent in  their  hostility  to  the  court  candidate  that  a  body  of 
troops  was  drawn  out  in  the  market-place  of  the  county  town, 
and  was  ordered  to  load  with  bal!4  The  history  of  the  con- 
test for  Buckinghamshire  is  still  more  remarkable.  The  Whig 
candidate,  Thomas  Wharton,  eldest  son  of  Philip  Lord  Whar- 
ton,  was  a  man  distinguished  alike  by  dexterity  and  by  au- 
dacity, and  destined  to  play  a  conspicuous,  though  not  always 
a  respectable,  part  in  the  politics  of  several  reigns.  He  had 
been  one  of  those  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  who 
had  carried  up  the  Exclusion  Bill  to  the  bar  of  the  Lords. 
The  court  was  therefore  bent  on  throwing  him  out  by  fair  or 
foul  means.  The  Lord  Chief-justice  Jeffreys  himself  came 
down  into  Buckinghamshire,  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  a 
gentleman  named  Hacket,  who  stood  on  the  high.  Tory  inter- 
est. A  stratagem  was  devised  which,  it  was  thought,  could 
not  fail  of  success.  It  was  given  out  that  the  polling  would 
take  place  at  Ailesbury ;  and  Wharton,  whose  skill  in  all  the 


Again  he  says,  "  The  truth  is  there  were  many  of  the  new  members  whose  elec- 
tions and  returns  were  universally  condemned  "  (May  22). 

*  This  fact  I  learned  from  a  newsletter  in  the  library  of  the  Royal  Institution. 
Van  Citters  mentions  the  strength  of  the  Whig  party  in  Bedfordshire. 

f  Bramston's  Memoirs. 

|  Reflections  on  a  Remonstrance  and  Protestation  of  all  the  good  Protestants 
of  this  Kingdom,  1689;  Dialogue  between  Two  Friends,  1689. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  439 

arts  of  electioneering  was  unrivalled,  made  his  arrangements 
on  that  supposition.  At  a  moment's  warning  the  Sheriff 
adjourned  the  poll  to  Newport  Pagnell.  Wharton  and  his 
friends  hurried  thither,  and  found  that  Hacket,  who  was  in 
the  secret,  had  already  secured  every  inn  and  lodging.  The 
Whig  freeholders  were  compelled  to  tie  their  horses  to  the 
hedges,  and  to  sleep  under  the  open  sky  in  the  meadows  which 
surround  the  little  town.  It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  refreshments  could  be  procured  at  such  short  notice  for 
so  large  a  number  of  men  and  beasts,  though  Wharton,  who 
was  utterly  regardless  of  money  when  his  ambition  and  party 
spirit  were  roused,  disbursed  fifteen  hundred  pounds  in  one 
day — an  immense  outlay  for  those  times.  Injustice  seems, 
however,  to  have  animated  the  courage  of  the  stout-hearted 
yeomen  of  Bucks,  the  sons  of  the  constituents  of  John 
Hampden.  Not  only  was  Wharton  at  the  head  of  the  poll ; 
but  he  was  able  to  spare  his  second  votes  to  a  man  of  mod- 
erate opinions,  and  to  throw  out  the  Chief -justice's  candi- 
date.* 

In  Cheshire  the  contest  lasted  six  days.  The  Whigs  polled 
about  seventeen  hundred  votes,  the  Tories  about  two  thou- 
sand. The  common  people  were  vehement  on  the  Whig  side, 
raised  the  cry  of  "  Down  with  the  Bishops,"  insulted  the 
clergy  in  the  streets  of  Chester,  knocked  down  one  gentleman 
of  the  Tory  party,  broke  the  windows  and  beat  the  constables. 
The  militia  was  called  out  to  quell  the  riot,  and  was  kept  as- 
sembled, in  order  to  protect  the  festivities  of  the  conquerors. 
When  the  poll  closed,  a  salute  of  five  great  guns  from  the 
castle  proclaimed  the  triumph  of  the  Church  and  the  Crown 
to  the  surrounding  country.  The  bells  rang.  The  newly 
elected  members  went  in  state  to  the  City  Cross,  accompa- 
nied by  a  band  of  music,  and  by  a  long  train  of  knights  and 
squires.  The  procession,  as  it  marched,  sang,  "  Joy  to  Great 
Csesar,"  a  loyal  ode,  which  had  lately  been  written  by  Dur- 
fey,  and  which,  though,  like  all  Durfey's  writings,  utterly  con- 
temptible, was  at  that  time  almost  as  popular  as  Lillibullero 

*  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Thomas,  Marquess  of  Wharton,  1715. 


440  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

became  a  few  years  later.*  Round  the  Cross  the  trainbands 
were  drawn  up  in  order;  a  bonfire  was  lighted;  the  Exclu- 
sion Bill  was  burned ;  and  the  health  of  King  James  was 
drunk  with  loud  acclamations.  The  following  day  was  Sun- 
day. In  the  morning  the  militia  lined  the  streets  leading  to 
the  Cathedral.  The  two  knights  of  the  shire  were  escorted 
with  great  pomp  to  their  choir  by  the  magistracy  of  the  city, 
heard  the  Dean  preach  a  sermon,  probably  on  the  duty  of 
passive  obedience,  and  were  afterward  feasted  by  the  May  or.  f 

In  Northumberland  the  triumph  of  Sir  John  Fenwick,  a 
courtier  whose  name  afterward  obtained  a  melancholy  celeb- 
rity, was  attended  by  circumstances  which  excited  interest  in 
London,  and  which  were  thought  not  unworthy  of  being  men- 
tioned in  the  despatches  of  foreign  ministers.  Newcastle  was 
lighted  up  with  great  piles  of  coal.  The  steeples  sent  forth  a 
joyous  peal.  A  copy  of  the  Exclusion  Bill,  and  a  black  box, 
resembling  that  which,  according  to  the  popular  fable,  con- 
tained the  contract  between  Charles  the  Second  and  Lucy 
Walters,  were  publicly  committed  to  the  flames,  with  loud  ac- 
clamations.^: 

The  general  result  of  the  elections  exceeded  the  most  san- 
guine expectations  of  the  court.  James  found  with  delight 
that  it  would  be  unnecessary  for  him  to  expend  a  farthing  in 
buying  votes.  He  said  that,  with  the  exception  of  about  forty 
members,  the  House  of  Commons  was  just  such  as  he  should 
himself  have  named. §  And  this  House  of  Commons  it  was 
in  his  power,  as  the  law  then  stood,  to  keep  to  the  end  of  his 
reign. 

Secure  of  parliamentary  support,  he  might  now  indulge  in 
the  luxury  of  revenge.  His  nature  was  not  placable ;  and, 
while  still  a  subject,  he  had  suffered  some  injuries  and  indig- 
nities which  might  move  even  a  placable  nature  to  fierce  and 
lasting  resentment.  One  set  of  men  in  particular  had,  with  a 

*  See  the  Guardian,  No.  6*7 ;  an  exquisite  specimen  of  Addison's  peculiar  man- 
ner. It  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  the  works  of  any  other  writer  such  an  instance 
of  benevolence  delicately  flavored  with  contempt. 

f  The  Observator,  April  4, 1685. 

j  Despatch  of  the  Dutch  Ambassadors,  April  ££,  1685.          §  Burnet,  i.,  626. 


16a5.  JAMES  THE   SECOND. 

baseness  and  cruelty  beyond  all  example  and  all  description, 
attacked  bis  honor  and  bis  life,  the  witnesses  of  the  plot.  He 
may  well  be  excused  for  hating  them,  since,  even  at  this  day, 
the  mention  of  their  names  excites  the  disgust  and  horror  of 
all  sects  and  parties. 

Some  of  these  wretches  were  already  beyond  the  reach  of 
human  justice.  Bedlow  had  died  in  his  wickedness,  without 
one  sign  of  remorse  or  shame.*  Dugdale  had  followed,  driven 
mad,  men  said,  by  the  Furies  of  an  evil  conscience,  and  with 
loud  shrieks  imploring  those  who  stood  round  his  bed  to  take 
away  Lord  Stafford.f  Carstairs,  too,  was  gone.  His  end  had 
been  all  horror  and  despair;  and  with  his  last  breath  he  had 
told  his  attendants  to  throw  him  into  a  ditch  like  a  dog,  for 
that  he  was  not  fit  to  sleep  in  a  Christian  burial-ground.:}:  But 
Gates  and  Dangerfield  were  still  within  the  reach  of  the  stern 
prince  whom  they  had  wronged.  James,  a  short  time  before 
Proceedings  ms  accession,  had  instituted  a  civil  suit  against  Gates 
against  oates.  fQT  (jefamatory  words ;  and  a  jury  had  given  dam- 
ages to  the  enormous  amount  of  a  hundred  thousand  pounds.§ 
The  defendant  had  been  taken  in  execution,  and  was  lying  in 
prison  as  a  debtor,  without  hope  of  release.  Two  bills  of  in- 
dictment against  him  for  perjury  had  been  found  by  the  grand 
jury  of  Middlesex,  a  few  weeks  before  the  death  of  Charles. 
Soon  after  the  close  of  the  elections  the  trial  came  on. 

Among  the  upper  and  middle  classes  Gates  had  few  friends 
left.  The  most  respectable  Whigs  were  now  convinced  that, 
even  if  his  narrative  had  some  foundation  in  fact,  he  had 
erected  on  that  foundation  a  vast  superstructure  of  romance. 
A  considerable  number  of  low  fanatics,  however,  still  regarded 
him  as  a  public  benefactor.  These  people  well  knew  that, 
if  he  were  convicted,  his  sentence  would  be  one  of  extreme 
severity,  and  were,  therefore,  indefatigable  in  their  endeavors 
to  manage  an  escape.  Though  he  was  as  yet  in  confinement 
only  for  debt,  he  was  put  into  irons  by  the  authorities  of  the 

*  A  faithful  account  of  the  Sickness,  Death,  and  Burial  of  Captain  Bedlow,  1680; 
Narrative  of  Lord  Chief-justice  North. 

f  Smith's  Intrigues  of  the  Popish  Plot,  1685.  \  Burnet,  i.,  439. 

§  See  the  proceedings  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials. 


442  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

King's  Bench  prison ;  and  even  so  he  was  with  difficulty  kept 
in  safe  custody.  The  mastiff  that  guarded  his  door  was  poi- 
soned ;  and,  on  the  very  night  preceding  the  trial,  a  ladder  of 
ropes  was  introduced  into  the  cell. 

On  the  day  in  which  Titus  was  brought  to  the  bar,  West- 
minster Hall  was  crowded  with  spectators,  among  whom  were 
many  Roman  Catholics,  eager  to  see  the  misery  and  humilia- 
tion of  their  persecutor.*  A  few  years  earlier,  his  short  neck, 
his  legs  uneven,  the  vulgar  said,  as  those  of  a  badger,  his  fore- 
head low  as  that  of  a  baboon,  his  purple  cheeks,  and  his  mon- 
strous length  of  chin,  had  been  familiar  to  all  who  frequented 
the  courts  of  law.  He  had  then  been  the  idol  of  the  nation. 
"Wherever  he  had  appeared,  men  had  uncovered  their  heads  to 
him.  The  lives  and  estates  of  the  magnates  of  the  realm  had 
been  at  his  mercy.  Times  had  now  changed ;  and  many  who 
had  formerly  regarded  him  as  the  deliverer  of  his  country 
shuddered  at  the  sight  of  those  hideous  features  on  which  vil- 
lany  seemed  to  be  written  by  the  hand  of  God.f 

It  was  proved,  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt,  that  this  man 
had,  by  false  testimony,  deliberately  murdered  several  guilt- 
less persons.  He  called  in  vain  on  the  most  eminent  mem- 
bers of  the  Parliaments  which  had  rewarded  and  extolled  him 
to  give  evidence  in  his  favor.  Some  of  those  whom  he  had 
summoned  absented  themselves.  None  of  them  said  anything 
tending  to  his  vindication.  One  of  them,  the  Earl  of  Hun- 
tingdon, bitterly  reproached  him  with  having  deceived  the 
Houses  and  drawn  on  them  the  guilt  of  shedding  innocent 
blood.  The  judges  browbeat  and  reviled  the  prisoner  with 
an  intemperance  which,  even  in  the  most  atrocious  cases,  ill 
becomes  the  judicial  character.  He  betrayed,  however,  no 
sign  of  fear  or  of  shame,  and  faced  the  storm  of  invective 
which  burst  upon  him  from  bar,  bench,  and  witness-box  with 
the  insolence  of  despair.  He  was  convicted  on  bpth  indict- 
ments. His  offence,  though,  in  a  moral  light,  murder  of  the 

*  Evelyn's  Diary,  May  7,  1685. 

f  There  remain  many  pictures  of  Gates.  The  most  striking  descriptions  of  his 
person  are  in  North's  Examen,  225,  in  Dryden's  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  and  in  a 
broadside  entitled  A  Hue  and  Cry  after  T.  0. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  443 

most  aggravated  kind,  was,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  merely  a 
misdemeanor.  The  tribunal,  however,  was  desirous  to  make 
his  punishment  more  severe  than  that  of  felons  or  traitors, 
and  not  merely  to  put  him  to  death,  but  to  put  him  to  death 
by  frightful  torments.  He  was  sentenced  to  be  stripped  of 
his  clerical  habit,  to  be  pilloried  in  Palace  Yard,  to  be  led 
round  Westminster  Hall  with  an  inscription  declaring  his 
infamy  over  his  head,  to  be  pilloried  again  in  front  of  the 
Royal  Exchange,  to  be  whipped  from  Aldgate  to  Newgate, 
and,  after  an  interval  of  two  days,  to  be  whipped  from  New- 
gate to  Tyburn.  If,  against  all  probability,  he  should  hap- 
pen to  survive  this  horrible  infliction,  he  was  to  be  kept 
close  prisoner  during  life.  Five  times  every  year  he  was  to  be 
brought  forth  from  his  dungeon  and  exposed  on  the  pillory 
in  different  parts  of  the  capital.*  This  rigorous  sentence 
was  rigorously  executed.  On  the  day  on  which  Gates  was 
pilloried  in  Palace  Yard,  he  was  mercilessly  pelted,  and  ran 
some  risk  of  being  pulled  in  pieces.f  But  in  the  City  his 
partisans  mustered  in  great  force,  raised  a  riot,  and  upset  the 
pillory 4  They  were,  however,  unable  to  rescue  their  favor- 
ite. It  was  supposed  that  he  would  try  to  escape  the  horrible 
doom  which  awaited  him  by  swallowing  poison.  All  that  he 
ate  and  drank  was  therefore  carefully  inspected.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  he  was  brought  forth  to  undergo  his  first 
flogging.  At  an  early  hour  an  innumerable  multitude  filled 
all  the  streets  from  Aldgate  to  the  Old  Bailey.  The  hang- 
man laid  on  the  lash  with  such  unusual  severity  as  showed 
that  he  had  received  special  instructions.  The  blood  ran 
down  in  rivulets.  For  a  time  the  criminal  showed  a  strange 
constancy :  but  at  last  his  stubborn  fortitude  gave  way.  His 
bellowings  were  frightful  to  hear.  He  swooned  several  times; 
but  the  scourge  still  continued  to  descend.  When  he  was 
unbound,  it  seemed  that  he  had  borne  as  much  as  the  human 
frame  can  bear  without  dissolution.  James  was  entreated  to 

*  The  proceedings  will  be  found  at  length  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials. 

f  Gazette  de  France,  ^^  1685. 

\  Despatch  of  the  Dutch  Ambassadors,  May  £f,  1685. 


44A  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

remit  the  second  flogging.  His  answer  was  short  and  clear : 
"  He  shall  go  through  with  it,  if  he  has  breath  in  his  body." 
An  attempt  was  made  to  obtain  the  Queen's  intercession  ;  but 
she  indignantly  refused  to  say  a  word  in  favor  of  such  a 
wretch.  After  an  interval  of  only  forty-eight  hours,  Gates 
was  again  brought  out  of  his  dungeon.  He  was  unable  to 
stand,  and  it  was  necessary  to  drag  him  to  Tyburn  on  a  sledge. 
He  seemed  quite  insensible;  and  the  Tories  reported  that 
he  had  stupefied  himself  with  strong  drink.  A  person  who 
counted  the  stripes  on  the  second  day  said  that  they  were 
seventeen  hundred.  The  bad  man  escaped  with  life,  but  so 
narrowly  that  his  ignorant  and  bigoted  admirers  thought  his 
recovery  miraculous,  and  appealed  to  it  as  a  proof  of  his  inno- 
cence. The  doors  of  the  prison  closed  upon  him.  During 
many  months  he  remained  ironed  in  the  darkest  hole  of  New- 
gate. It  wras  said  that  in  his  cell  he  gave  himself  up  to  mel- 
ancholy, and  sat  whole  days  uttering  deep  groans,  his  arms 
folded,  and  his  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes.  It  was  not  in  Eng- 
land alone  that  these  events  excited  strong  interest.  Millions 
of  Roman  Catholics,  who  knew  nothing  of  our  institutions  or 
of  our  factions,  had  heard  that  a  persecution  of  singular  bar- 
barity had  raged  in  our  island  against  the  professors  of  the 
true  faith,  that  many  pious  men  had  suffered  martyrdom,  and 
that  Titus  Gates  had  been  the  chief  murderer.  There  was, 
therefore,  great  joy  in  distant  countries  when  it  was  known 
that  the  divine  justice  had  overtaken  him.  Engravings  of 
him  looking  out  from  the  pillory  and  writhing  at  the  cart's 
tail  were  circulated  all  over  Europe ;  and  epigrammatists,  in 
many  languages,  made  merry  with  the  doctoral  title  which  he 
pretended  to  have  received  from  the  University  of  Salaman- 
ca, and  remarked  that,  since  his  forehead  could  not  be  made 
to  blush,  it  was  but  reasonable  that  his  back  should  do  so.* 

*  Evelyn's  Diary,  May  22, 1685  ;  Eaehard,  iii.,  741 ;  Burnet,  i.,  637 ;  Observator, 
May  27,  1685;  Oates's  EiVwv,  89;  E!KUV  fiporoXoiyov,  1697;  Commons'  Journals 
of  May,  June,  and  July,  1689 ;  Tom  Brown's  Advice  to  Dr.  Gates.  Some  interest- 
ing circumstances  are  mentioned  in  a  broadside,  printed  for  A.  Brooks,  Charing 
Cross,  1685.  I  have  seen  contemporary  French  and  Italian  pamphlets  containing 
the  history  of  the  trial  and  execution.  A  print  of  Titus  in  the  pillory  was  pub- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  445 

Horrible  as  were  the  sufferings  of  Gates,  they  did  not  equal 
his  crimes.  The  old  law  of  England,  which  had  been  suffered 
to  become  obsolete,  treated  the  false  witness,  who  had  caused 
death  by  means  of  perjury,  as  a  murderer.*  This  was  wise' 
and  righteous ;  for  such  a  witness  is,  in  truth,  the  worst  of 
murderers.  To  the  guilt  of  shedding  innocent  blood  he  had 
added  the  guilt  of  violating  the  most  solemn  engagement  into 
which  man  can  enter  with  his  fellow-men,  and  of  making  in- 
stitutions, to  which  it  is  desirable  that  the  public  should  look 
with  respect  and  confidence,  instruments  of  frightful  wrong 
and  objects  of  general  distrust.  The  pain  produced  by  ordi- 
nary murder  bears  no  proportion  to  the  pain  produced  by 
murder  of  which  the  courts  of  justice  are  made  the  agents. 
The  mere  extinction  of  life  is  a  very  small  part  of  what 
makes  an  execution  horrible.  The  prolonged  mental  agony 
of  the  sufferer,  the  shame  and  misery  of  all  connected  with 
him,  the  stain  abiding  even  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation, 
are  things  far  more  dreadful  than  death  itself.  In  general  it 
may  be  safely  affirmed  that  the  father  of  a  large  family  would 
rather  be  bereaved  of  all  his  children  by  accident  or  by  dis- 
ease than  lose  one  of  them  by  the  hands  of  the  hangman. 
Murder  by  false  testimony  is,  therefore,  the  most  aggravated 
species  of  murder ;  and  Gates  had  been  guilty  of  many  such 
murders.  Nevertheless  the  punishment  which  was  inflicted 
upon  him  cannot  be  justified.  In  sentencing  him  to  be  strip- 
ped of  his  ecclesiastical  habit  and  imprisoned  for  life,  the 
judges  exceeded  their  legal  power.  They  were  undoubtedly 
competent  to  inflict  whipping ;  nor  had  the  law  assigned  a 

lished  at  Milan,  with  the  following  curious  inscription :  "  Questo  &  il  naturale 
ritratto  di  Tito  Otez,  o  vero  Oatz,  Inglese,  posto  in  berlina,  uno  de'  principal!  pro- 
fessori  della  religion  protestante,  acerrimo  persecutore  de'  Cattolici,  e  gran  sper- 
giuro."  I  have  also  seen  a  Dutch  engraving  of  his  punishment,  with  some  Lathi 
verses,  of  which  the  following  are  a  specimen : 

"At  Doctor  flctus  non  fictos  pertulit  ictus, 
A  tortore  datos  haud  molli  in  corpore  gratos, 
Disceret  ut  vere  scelera  ob  commissa  rubere." 

The  anagram  of  his  name, "  Testis  Ovat,"  may  be  found  on  many  prints  pub- 
lished in  different  countries. 

*  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  Chapter  of  Homicide. 


446  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

limit  to  the  number  of  stripes.  But  the  spirit  of  the  law 
clearly  was  that  no  misdemeanor  should  be  punished  more 
severely  than  the  most  atrocious  felonies.  The  worst  felon 
could  only  be  hanged.  The  judges,  as  they  believed,  sen- 
tenced Gates  to  be  scourged  to  death.  That  the  law  was  de- 
fective is  not  a  sufficient  excuse :  for  defective  laws  should  be 
altered  by  the  legislature,  and  not  strained  by  the  tribunals ; 
and  least  of  all  should  the  law  be  strained  for  the  purpose  of 
inflicting  torture  and  destroying  life.  That  Gates  was  a  bad 
man  is  not  a  sufficient  excuse ;  for  the  guilty  are  almost  al- 
ways the  first  to  suffer  those  hardships  which  are  afterward 
used  as  precedents  against  the  innocent.  Thus  it  was  in  the 
present  case.  Merciless  flogging  soon  became  an  ordinary 
punishment  for  political  misdemeanors  of  no  very  aggravated 
kind.  Men  were  sentenced,  for  words  spoken  against  the 
government,  to  pain  so  excruciating  that  they,  with  un- 
feigned earnestness,  begged  to  be  brought  to  trial  on  capital 
charges,  and  sent  to  the  gallows.  Happily  the  progress  of 
this  great  evil  was  speedily  stopped  by  the  Revolution,  and 
by  that  article  of  the  Bill  of  Rights  which  condemns  all  cruel 
and  unusual  punishments. 

The  villany  of  Dangerfield  had  not,  like  that  of  Gates, 

destroyed  many  innocent  victims ;  for  Dangerfield  had  not 

taken  up  the  trade  of  a  witness  till  the  plot  had 

Proceedings  £  .       .  r   . 

against  Dan-     been  blown  upon  and  till  1  uries  had  become  incred- 

gertield. 

ulous.*  He  was  brought  to  trial,  not  for  perjury, 
but  for  the  less  heinous  offence  of  libel.  He  had,  during  the 
agitation  caused  by  the  Exclusion  Bill,  put  forth  a  narrative 
containing  some  false  and  odious  imputations  on  the  late  and 
on  the  present  King.  For  this  publication  he  was  now,  after 
the  lapse  of  five  years,  suddenly  taken  up,  brought  before  the 


*  According  to  Roger  North,  the  judges  decided  that  Dangerfield,  having  been 
previously  convicted  of  perjury,  was  incompetent  to  be  a  witness  of  the  plot.  But 
this  is  one  among  many  instances  of  Roger's  inaccuracy.  It  appears,  from  the 
report  of  the  trial  of  Lord  Castlemaine  in  June,  1680,  that,  after  much  altercation 
between  counsel,  and  much  consultation  among  the  judges  of  the  different  courts 
in  Westminster  Hall,  Dangerfield  was  sworn  and  suffered  to  tell  his  story;  but  the 
jury  very  properly  gave  no  credit  to  his  testimony. 


1685.  JAMES   THE   SECOND.  447 

Privy  Council,  committed,  tried,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to 
be  whipped  from  Aldgate  to  Newgate  and  from  Newgate  to 
Tyburn.  The  wretched  man  behaved  with  great  effrontery 
during  the  trial ;  but,  when  he  heard  his  doom,  he  went  into 
agonies  of  despair,  gave  himself  up  for  dead,  and  chose  a  text 
for  his  funeral  sermon.  His  forebodings  were  just.  He  was 
not,  indeed,  scourged  quite  so  severely  as  Gates  had  been ;  but 
he  had  not  Oates's  iron  strength  of  body  and  mind.  After 
the  execution,  Dangerfield  was  put  into  a  hackney-coach,  and 
was  taken  back  to  prison.  As  he  passed  the  corner  of  Hat- 
ton  Garden,  a  Tory  gentleman  of  Gray's  Inn,  named  Francis, 
stopped  the  carriage,  and  cried  out  with  brutal  levity,  "Well, 
friend,  have  you  had  your  heat  this  morning  ?"  The  bleed- 
ing prisoner,  maddened  by  this  insult,  answered  with  a  curse. 
Francis  instantly  struck  him  in  the  face  with  a  cane,  which  in- 
jured the  eye.  Dangerfield  was  carried,  dying,  into  Newgate. 
This  dastardly  outrage  roused  the  indignation  of  the  by-stand- 
ers.  They  seized  Francis,  and  were  with  difficulty  restrained 
from  tearing  him  to  pieces.  The  appearance  of  Dangerfi  eld's 
body,  which  had  been  frightfully  lacerated  by  the  whip,  in- 
clined many  to  believe  that  his  death  was  chiefly,  if  not 
wholly,  caused  by  the  stripes  which  he  had  received.  The 
government  and  the  Chief-justice  thought  it  convenient  to 
lay  the  whole  blame  on  Francis,  who,  though  he  seems  to 
have  been  at  worst  guilty  only  of  aggravated  manslaughter, 
was  tried  and  executed  for  murder.  His  dying  speech  is  one 
of  the  most  curious  monuments  of  that  age.  The  savage 
spirit  which  had  brought  him  to  the  gallows  remained  with 
him  to  the  last.  Boasts  of  his  loyalty  arid  abuse  of  the  Whigs 
were  mingled  with  the  parting  ejaculations  in  which  he  com- 
mended his  soul  to  the  divine  mercy.  An  idle  rumor  had 
been  circulated  that  his  wife  was  in  love  with  Dangerfield, 
who  was  eminently  handsome,  and  renowned  for  gallantry. 
The  fatal  blow,  it  was  said,  had  been  prompted  by  jeal- 
ousy. The  dying  husband,  with  an  earnestness,  half  ridic- 
ulous, half  pathetic,  vindicated  the  lady's  character.  She 
was,  he  said,  a  virtuous  woman :  she  came  of  a  loyal  stock, 
and,  if  she  had  been  inclined  to  break  her  marriage  vow, 


448  HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

would  at  least  have  selected  a  Tory  and  a  churchman  for  her 
paramour.* 

About  the  same  time  a  culprit,  who  bore  very  little  resem- 
blance to  Gates  or  Dangerfield,  appeared  on  the  floor  of  the 
Court  of  King's  Bench.     No  eminent  chief  of  a 

Proceedings  . 

against  Bas-  party  has  ever  passed  through  many  years  of  civil 
and  religious  dissension  with  more  innocence  than 
Richard  Baxter.  He  belonged  to  the  mildest  arid  most  tem- 
perate section  of  the  Puritan  body.  He  was  a  young  man 
when  the  civil  war  broke  out.  He  thought  that  the  right 
was  on  the  side  of  the  Houses ;  and  he  had  no  scruple  about 
acting  as  chaplain  to  a  regiment  in  the  parliamentary  army : 
but  his  clear  and  somewhat  sceptical  understanding,  and  his 
strong  sense  of  justice,  preserved  him  from  all  excesses.  He 
exerted  himself  to  check  the  fanatical  violence  of  the  soldiery. 
He  condemned  the  proceedings  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice. 
In  the  days  of  the  Commonwealth  he  had  the  boldness  to  ex- 
press, on  many  occasions,  and  once  even  in  Cromwell's  pres- 
ence, love  and  reverence  for  the  ancient  institutions  of  the 
country.  While  the  royal  family  was  in  exile,  Baxter's  life 
was  chiefly  passed  at  Kidderminster  in  the  assiduous  discharge 
of  parochial  duties.  He  heartily  concurred  in  the  Restora- 
tion, and  was  sincerely  desirous  to  bring  about  a  union  be- 
tween Episcopalians  and  Presbyterians.  For,  with  a  liberality 
rare  in  his  time,  he  considered  questions  of  ecclesiastical  pol- 
ity as  of  small  account  when  compared  with  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  Christianity,  and  had  never,  even  when  prelacy  was 
most  odious  to  the  ruling  powers,  joined  in  the  outcry  against 
Bishops.  The  attempt  to  reconcile  the  contending  factions 

*  Dangerfield's  trial  was  not  reported ;  but  I  have  seen  a  concise  account  of  it 
in  a  contemporary  broadside.  An  abstract  of  the  evidence  against  Francis,  and 
his  dying  speech,  will  be  found  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials.  See  Eachard,  iii., 
741.  Burnet's  narrative  contains  more  mistakes  than  lines.  See  also  North's  Ex- 
amen,  256,  the  sketch  of  Dangerfield's  life  in  the  Bloody  Assizes,  the  Obscrvator 
of  July  29,  1685,  and  the  poem  entitled  "  Dangerfield's  Ghost  to  Jeffreys."  In  the 
very  rare  volume  entitled  "  Succinct  Genealogies,  by  Robert  Halstead,"  Lord  Pe- 
terborough says  that  Dangerfield,  with  whom  he  had  had  some  intercourse,  was 
"  a  young  man  who  appeared  under  a  decent  figure,  a  serious  behavior,  and  with 
words  that  did  not  seem  to  proceed  from  a  common  understanding." 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  449 

failed.  Baxter  cast  in  his  lot  with  his  proscribed  friends,  re- 
fused the  mitre  of  Hereford,  quitted  the  parsonage  of  Kid- 
derminster, and  gave  himself  up  almost  wholly  to  study.  His 
theological  writings,  though  too  moderate  to  be  pleasing  to 
the  bigots  of  any  party,  had  an  immense  reputation.  Zealous 
churchmen  called  him  a  Roundhead;  and  many  Non- con- 
formists accused  him  of  Erastianism  and  Arminianism.  But 
the  integrity  of  his  heart,  the  purity  of  his  life,  the  vigor  of 
his  faculties,  and  the  extent  of  his  attainments  were  acknowl- 
edged by  the  best  and  wisest  men  of  every  persuasion.  His 
political  opinions,  in  spite  of  the  oppression  which  he  and  his 
brethren  had  suffered,  were  moderate.  He  was  friendly  to 
that  small  party  which  wras  hated  by  both  Whigs  and  Tories. 
He  could  not,  he  said,  join  in  cursing  the  Trimmers,  when  he 
remembered  who  it  was  that  had  blessed  the  peace-makers.* 

In  a  Commentary  on  the  New  Testament  he  had  complain- 
ed, with  some  bitterness,  of  the  persecution  which  the  Dis- 
senters suffered.  That  men  who,  for  not  using  the  Prayer- 
book,  had  been  driven  from  their  homes,  stripped  of  their 
property,  and  locked  up  in  dungeons,  should  dare  to  utter  a 
murmur,  was  then  thought  a  high  crime  against  the  State  and 
the  Church.  Roger  Lestrange,  the  champion  of  the  govern- 
ment and  the  oracle  of  the  clergy,  sounded  the  note  of  war  in 
the  Observator.  An  information  was  filed.  Baxter  begged 
that  he  might  be  allowed  some  time  to  prepare  for  his  de- 
fence. It  was  on  the  day  on  which  Gates  was  pilloried  in 
Palace  Yard  that  the  illustrious  chief  of  the  Puritans,  op- 
pressed by  age  and  infirmities,  came  to  "Westminster  Hall  to 
make  this  request.  Jeffreys  burst  into  a  storm  of  rage.  "  Not 
a  minute,"  he  cried,  "  to  save  his  life.  I  can  deal  with  saints 
as  well  as  with  sinners.  There  stands  Gates  on  one  side  of 
the  pillory ;  and,  if  Baxter  stood  on  the  other,  the  two  great- 
est rogues  in  the  kingdom  would  stand  together." 

When  the  trial  came  on  at  Guildhall,  a  crowd  of  those  who 
loved  and  honored  Baxter  filled  the  court.  At  his  side  stood 


*  Baxter's  preface  to  Sir  Matthew  Bale's  Judgment  of  the  Nature  of  True  Re- 
ligion, 1684. 

I.— 29 


450  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  IV. 

Doctor  William  Bates,  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  Non- 
conformist divines.  Two  Whig  barristers  of  great  note,  Pol- 
lexfen  and  Wallop,  appeared  for  the  defendant.  Pollexfen 
had  scarcely  begun  his  address  to  the  jury,  when  the  Chief- 
justice  broke  forth :  "  Pollexfen,  I  know  you  well.  I  will  set 
a  mark  on  you.  You  are  the  patron  of  the  faction.  This  is 
an  old  rogue,  a  schismatical  knave,  a  hypocritical  villain.  He 
hates  the  Liturgy.  He  would  have  nothing  but  long-winded 
cant  without  book :"'  and  then  his  lordship  turned  up  his  eyes, 
clasped  his  hands,  and  began  to  sing  through  his  nose,  in  imi- 
tation of  what  he  supposed  to  be  Baxter's  style  of  praying, 
"  Lord,  we  are  thy  people,  thy  peculiar  people,  thy  dear  peo- 
ple." Pollexfen  gently  reminded  the  court  that  his  late  Maj- 
esty had  thought  Baxter  deserving  of  a  bishopric.  "And 
what  ailed  the  old  blockhead  then,"  cried  Jeffreys,  "  that  he 
did  not  take  it  ?"  His  fury  now  rose  almost  to  madness.  He 
called  Baxter  a  dog,  and  swore  that  it  would  be  no  more  than 
justice  to  whip  such  a  villain  through  the  whole  city. 

Wallop  interposed,  but  fared  no  better  than  his  leader. 
"  You  are  in  all  these  dirty  causes,  Mr.  Wallop,"  said  the 
judge.  "  Gentlemen  of  the  long  robe  ought  to  be  ashamed 
to  assist  such  factious  knaves."  The  advocate  made  another 
attempt  to  obtain  a  hearing,  but  to  no  purpose.  "  If  you  do 
not  know  your  duty,"  said  Jeffreys,  "  I  will  teach  it  you." 

Wallop  sat  down ;  and  Baxter  himself  attempted  to  put  in 
a  word.  But  the  Chief-justice  drowned  all  expostulation  in 
a  torrent  of  ribaldry  and  invective,  mingled  with  scraps  of 
Hudibras.  "  My  lord,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  have  been  much 
blamed  by  Dissenters  for  speaking  respectfully  of  bishops." 
"  Baxter  for  bishops !"  cried  the  judge,  "  that's  a  merry  con- 
ceit indeed.  I  know  what  you  mean  by  bishops :  rascals  like 
yourself,  Kidderminster  bishops,  factious,  snivelling  Presbyte- 
rians !"  Again  Baxter  essayed  to  speak,  and  again  Jeffreys 
bellowed,  "  Kichard,  Richard,  dost  thou  think  we  will  let  thee 
poison  the  court  ?  Richard,  thou  art  an  old  knave.  Thou 
hast  written  books  enough  to  load  a  cart,  and  every  book  as 
full  of  sedition  as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat.  By  the  grace  of 
God,  I'll  look  after  thee.  I  see  a  great  many  of  your  broth- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  451 

erbood  waiting  to  know  what  will  befall  tbeir  mighty  Don. 
And  there,"  he  continued,  fixing  bis  savage  eye  on  Bates, 
"  there  is  a  doctor  of  the  party  at  your  elbow.  But,  by  the 
grace  of  God  Almighty,  I  will  crush  you  all." 

Baxter  held  his  peace.  But  one  of  the  junior  counsel  for 
the  defence  made  a  last  effort,  and  undertook  to  show  that  the 
words  of  which  complaint  was  made  would  not  bear  the  con- 
struction put  on  them  by  the  information.  With  this  view 
he  began  to  read  the  context.  In  a  moment  he  was  roared 
down.  "  You  sha'n't  turn  the  court  into  a  conventicle."  The 
noise  of  weeping  was  heard  from  some  of  those  who  sur- 
rounded Baxter.  "  Snivelling  calves !"  said  the  judge. 

Witnesses  to  character  were  in  attendance,  and  among  them 
were  several  clergymen  of  the  Established  Church.  But  the 
Chief -justice  would  hear  nothing.  "  Does  your  lordship  think," 
said  Baxter,  "  that  any  jury  will  convict  a  man  on  such  a  trial 
as  this  ?"  "  I  warrant  you,  Mr.  Baxter,"  said  Jeffreys :  "  don't 
trouble  yourself  about  that."  Jeffreys  was  right.  The  sher- 
iffs were  the  tools  of  the  government.  The  jurymen,  selected 
by  the  sheriffs  from  among  the  fiercest  zealots  of  the  Tory 
party,  conferred  for  a  moment,  and  returned  a  verdict  of 
guilty.  "  My  lord,"  said  Baxter,  as  he  left  the  court,  "  there 
was  once  a  chief-justice  who  would  have  treated  me  very  dif- 
ferently." He  alluded  to  his  learned  and  virtuous  friend  Sir 
Matthew  Hale.  "  There  is  not  an  honest  man  in  England," 
answered  Jeffreys,  "  but  looks  on  thee  as  a  knave."* 

The  sentence  was,  for  those  times,  a  lenient  one.  What 
passed  in  conference  among  the  judges  cannot  be  certainly 
known.  It  was  believed  among  the  Non-conformists,  and  is 
highly  probable,  that  the  Chief-justice  was  overruled  by  his 
three  brethren.  He  proposed,  it  is  said,  that  Baxter  should 
be  whipped  through  London  at  the  cart's  tail.  The  majority 
thought  that  an  eminent  divine,  who,  a  quarter  of  a  century 
before,  had  been  offered  a  mitre,  and  who  was  now  in  his  sev- 

*  See  the  Observator  of  February  25,  1685,  the  information  in  the  Collection  of 
State  Trials,  the  account  of  what  passed  in  court  given  by  Calamy,  Life  of  Baxter, 
Chap,  xiv.,  and  the  very  curious  extracts  from  the  Baxter  MSS.  in  the  Life,  by 
Orme,  published  in  1830. 


452  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

entieth  year,  would  be  sufficiently  punished  for  a  few  sharp 
words  by  fine  and  imprisonment.* 

The  manner  in  which  Baxter  was  treated  by  a  judge,  who 
was  a  member  of  the  cabinet  and  a  favorite  of  the  Sovereign, 

indicated,  in  a  manner  not  to  be  mistaken,  the  feel- 
Meeting  of  the   .          .,1.1,  i  . 
parliament  of    ing  with  which  the  government  at  this  time  re- 

Scotland 

garded  the  Protestant  Non  -  conformists.  But  al- 
ready that  feeling  had  been  indicated  by  still  stronger  and 
more  terrible  signs.  The  Parliament  of  Scotland  had  met. 
James  had  purposely  hastened  the  session  of  this  body,  and  had 
postponed  the  session  of  the  English  Houses,  in  the  hope  that 
the  example  set  at  Edinburgh  would  produce  a  good  effect  at 
Westminster.  For  the  legislature  of  his  northern  kingdom 
was  as  obsequious  as  those  provincial  Estates  which  Lewis  the 
Fourteenth  still  suffered  to  play  at  some  of  their  ancient  func- 
tions in  Brittany  and  Burgundy.  None  but  an  Episcopalian 
could  sit  in  the  Scottish  Parliament,  or  could  even  vote  for  a 
member,  and  in  Scotland  an  Episcopalian  was  always  a  Tory 
or  a  time-server.  From  an  assembly  thus  constituted  little 
opposition  to  the  royal  wishes  was  to  be  apprehended ;  and 
even  the  assembly  thus  constituted  could  pass  no  law  which 
had  not  been  previously  approved  by  a  committee  of  courtiers. 

All  that  the  government  asked  was  readily  granted.  In  a 
financial  point  of  view,  indeed,  the  liberality  of  the  Scottish 
Estates  was  of  little  consequence.  They  gave,  however,  what 
their  scanty  means  permitted.  They  annexed  in  perpetuity 
to  the  crown  the  duties  which  had  been  granted  to  the  late 
King,  and  which  in  his  time  had  been  estimated  at  forty 
thousand  pounds  sterling  a  year.  They  also  settled  on  James 
for  life  an  additional  annual  income  of  two  hundred  and  six- 
teen thousand  pounds  Scots,  equivalent  to  eighteen  thousand 
pounds  sterling.  The  whole  sum  which  they  were  able  to 
bestow  was  about  sixty  thousand  a  year,  little  more  than  what 
was  poured  into  the  English  Exchequer  every  fortnight.f 

Having  little  money  to  give,  the  Estates  supplied  the  defect 


*  Baxter  MS.  cited  by  Orme. 

f  Act.  Parl.  Car.  II.,  March  29, 1661 ;  Jac.  VII.,  April  28, 1685,  and  May  13, 1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  453 

by  loyal  professions  and  barbarous  statutes.  The  King,  in  a 
letter  which  was  read  to  them  at  the  opening  of  their  session, 
called  on  them  in  vehement  language  to  provide  new  penal 
laws  against  the  refractory  Presbyterians,  and  expressed  his 
regret  that  business  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  propose 
such  laws  in  person  from  the  throne.  His  commands  were 
obeyed.  A  statute  framed  by  his  ministers  was  promptly 
passed,  a  statute  which  stands  forth,  even  among  the  statutes 
of  that  unhappy  country  at  that  unhappy  period,  pre-eminent 
in  atrocity.  It  was  enacted,  in  few  but  emphatic  words,  that 
whoever  should  preach  in  a  conventicle  under  a  roof,  or  should 
attend,  either  as  preacher  or  as  hearer,  a  conventicle  in  the 
open  air,  should  be  punished  with  death  and  confiscation  of 
property.* 

This  law,  passed  at  the  King's  instance  by  an  assembly  de- 
voted to  his  will,  deserves  especial  notice.     For  he  has  been 
frequently  represented  by  ignorant  writers   as  a 

Feeling  of  .^  ,      .     j       -,  ,..,?.  .      ,  .        ,      . 

James  toward   pnnce  rash,  indeed,  and  iniuaicious  in  Ins  choice  ot 

the  Puritans.       r  '.  * 

means,  but  intent  on  one  or  the  noblest  ends  which 
a  ruler  can  pursue,  the  establishment  of  entire  religious  lib- 
erty. Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  some  portions  of  his  life, 
when  detached  from  the  rest  and  superficially  considered, 
seem  to  warrant  this  favorable  view  of  his  character. 

While  a  subject,  he  had  been,  during  many  years,  a  perse- 
cuted man ;  and  persecution  had  produced  its  usual  effect  on 
him.  His  mind,  dull  and  narrow  as  it  was,  had  profited  un- 
der that  sharp  discipline.  While  he  was  excluded  from  the 
Court,  from  the  Admiralty,  and  from  the  Council,  and  was  in 
danger  of  being  also  excluded  from  the  throne,  only  because 
he  could  not  help  believing  in  transubstantiation  and  in  the 
authority  of  the  see  of  Rome,  he  made  such  rapid  progress 
in  the  doctrines  of  toleration  that  he  left  Milton  and  Locke 
behind.  What,  he  often  said,  could  be  more  unjust,  than  to 
visit  speculations  with  penalties  which  ought  to  be  reserved 
for  acts  ?  What  more  impolitic  than  to  reject  the  services  of 

*  Act.  Parl.  Jac.  VII.,  May  8,  1685 ;  Observator,  June  20,  1685.  Lestrange  ev- 
idently wished  to  see  the  precedent  followed  in  England. 


454  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

good  soldiers,  seamen,  lawyers,  diplomatists,  financiers,  because 
they  hold  unsound  opinions  about  the  number  of  the  sacra- 
ments or  the  pluripresence  of  saints?  He  learned  by  rote 
those  commonplaces  which  all  sects  repeat  so  fluently  when 
they  are  enduring  oppression,  and  forget  so  easily  when  they 
are  able  to  retaliate  it.  Indeed  he  rehearsed  his  lesson  so 
well,  that  those  who  chanced  to  hear  him  on  this  subject  gave 
him  credit  for  much  more  sense  and  much  readier  elocution 
than  he  really  possessed.  His  .professions  imposed  on  some 
charitable  persons,  and  perhaps  imposed  on  himself.  But  his 
zeal  for  the  rights  of  conscience  ended  with  the  predominance 
of  the  Whig  party.  When  fortune  changed,  when  he  was  no 
longer  afraid  that  others  would  persecute  him,  when  he  had 
it  in  his  power  to  persecute  others,  his  real  propensities  began 
to  show  themselves.  He  hated  the  Puritan  sects  with  a  man- 
ifold hatred,  theological  and  political,  hereditary  and  personal. 
He  regarded  them  as  the  foes  of  Heaven,  as  the  foes  of  all 
legitimate  authority  in  Church  and  State,  as  his  great-grand- 
mother's foes  and  his  grandfather's,  his  father's  and  his  moth- 
er's, his  brother's  and  his  own.  He,  who  had  complained  so 
loudly  of  the  laws  against  Papists,  now  declared  himself  un- 
able to  conceive  how  men  could  have  the  impudence  to  pro- 
pose the  repeal  of  the  laws  against  Puritans.*  He,  whose 
favorite  theme  had  been  the  injustice  of  requiring  civil  func- 
tionaries to  take  religious  tests,  established  in  Scotland,  when 
he  resided  there  as  Viceroy,  the  most  rigorous  religious  test 
that  has  ever  been  known  in  the  empire.f  He,  who  had  ex- 
pressed just  indignation  when  the  priests  of  his  own  faith 
were  hanged  and  quartered,  amused  himself  with  hearing 
Covenanters  shriek  and  seeing  them  writhe  while  their  knees 
were  beaten  flat  in  the  boots.:}:  In  this  mood  he  became 
King ;  and  he  immediately  demanded  and  obtained  from  the 

*  His  own  words  reported  by  himself.     Life  of  James  II.,  i.,  656,  Orig.  Mem. 

f  Act.  Parl.  Car.  II.,  August  31, 1681. 

t  Bui-net,  i.,  583 ;  Wodrow,  III.,  v.,  2.  Unfortunately  the  Acta  of  the  Scottish 
Privy  Council  during  almost  the  whole  administration  of  the  Duke  of  York  are 
wanting  (1848).  This  assertion  has  been  met  by  a  direct  contradiction.  But  the 
fact  is  exactly  as  I  have  stated  it.  There  is  in  the  Acta  of  the  Scottish  Privy 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  455 

obsequious  Estates  of  Scotland,  as  the  surest  pledge  of  their 
loyalty,  the  most  sanguinary  law  that  has  ever  in  our  island 
been  enacted  against  Protestant  Non-conformists. 

With  this  law  the  whole  spirit  of  his  administration  was 
in  perfect  harmony.  The  fiery  persecution,  which  had  raged 
cruel  treat-  when  he  ruled  Scotland  as  vicegerent,  waxed  hotter 
sceo"ch°co\ee-  than  ever  from  the  day  on  which  he  became  sover- 
nanters.  eign.  Those  shires  in  which  the  Covenanters  were 
most  numerous  were  given  up  to  the  license  of  the  army. 
With  the  army  was  mingled  a  militia,  composed  of  the  most 
violent  and  profligate  of  those  who  called  themselves  Episco- 
palians. Pre-eminent  among  the  bands  which  oppressed  and 
wasted  these  unhappy  districts  were  the  dragoons  commanded 
by  John  Graham  of  Claverhouse.  The  story  ran  that  these 
wicked  men  used  in  their  revels  to  play  at  the  torments  of 
hell,  and  to  call  each  other  by  the  names  of  devils  and 
damned  souls.*  The  chief  of  this  Tophet,  a  soldier  of  distin- 
guished courage  and  professional  skill,  but  rapacious  and  pro- 
fane, of  violent  temper  and  of  obdurate  heart,  has  left  a  name 
which,  wherever  the  Scottish  race  is  settled  on  the  face  of 
the  globe,  is  mentioned  with  a  peculiar  energy  of  hatred.  To 
recapitulate  all  the  crimes  by  which  this  man,  and  men  like 
him,  goaded  the  peasantry  of  the  Western  Lowlands  into  mad- 
ness, Avould  be  an  endless  task.  A  few  instances  must  suffice ; 
and  all  those  instances  shall  be  taken  from  the  history  of  a 
single  fortnight,  that  very  fortnight  in  which  the  Scottish 
Parliament,  at  the  urgent  request  of  James,  enacted  a  new 
law  of  unprecedented  severity  against  Dissenters. 

John  Brown,  a  poor  carrier  of  Lanarkshire,  was,  for  his  sin- 
gular piety,  commonly  called  the  Christian  carrier.  Many 
years  later,  when  Scotland  enjoyed  rest,  prosperity,  and  relig- 
ious freedom,  old  men  who  remembered  the  evil  days  de- 
scribed him  as  one  versed  in  divine  things,  blameless  in  life, 
and  so  peaceable  that  the  tyrants  could  find  no  offence  in 

Council  a  hiatus  extending  from  August,  1678,  to  August,  1682.     The  Duke  of 
York  began  to  reside  in  Scotland  in  December,  1679.     He  left  Scotland,  never  to 
return,  in  May,  1682  (1857). 
*  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  6. 


456  HISTORY   OF   ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

him  except  that  he  absented  himself  from  the  public  wor- 
ship of  the  Episcopalians.  On  the  first  of  May  he  was  cut- 
ting turf,  when  he  was  seized  by  Claverhouse's  dragoons,  rap- 
idly examined,  convicted  of  non-conformity,  and  sentenced  to 
death.  It  is  said  that,  even  among  the  soldiers,  it  was  not 
easy  to  find  an  executioner.  For  the  wife  of  the  poor  man 
was  present :  she  led  one  little  child  by  the  hand  :  it  was  easy 
to  see  that  she  was  about  to  give  birth  to  another ;  and  even 
those  wild  and  hard-hearted  men,  who  nicknamed  one  another 
Beelzebub  and  Apollyon,  shrank  from  the  great  wickedness 
of  butchering  her  husband  before  her  face.  The  prisoner 
meanwhile,  raised  above  himself  by  the  near  prospect  of  eter- 
nity, prayed  loud  and  fervently  as  one  inspired,  till  Claver- 
house,  in  a  fury,  shot  him  dead.  It  was  reported  by  credible 
witnesses  that  the  widow  cried  out  in  her  agony,  "  Well,  sir, 
well;  the  day  of  reckoning  will  come;"  and  that  the  mur- 
derer replied,  "  To  man  I  can  answer  for  what  I  have  done ; 
and  as  for  God,  I  will  take  him  into  mine  own  hand."  Yet 
it  was  rumored  that  even  on  his  seared  conscience  and  ada- 
mantine heart  the  dying  ejaculations  of  his  victim  made  an 
impression  which  was  never  effaced.* 

On  the  fifth  of  May  two  artisans,  Peter  Gillies  and  John 
Bryce,  were  tried  in  Ayrshire  by  a  military  tribunal  consist- 
ing of  fifteen  soldiers.  The  indictment  is  still  extant.  The 

o 

prisoners  were  charged,  not  with  any  act  of  rebellion,  but 
with  holding  the  same  pernicious  doctrines  which  had  impel- 
led others  to  rebel,  and  with  wanting  only  opportunity  to  act 
upon  those  doctrines.  The  proceeding  was  summary.  In  a 
few  hours  the  two  culprits  were  convicted,  hanged,  and  flung 
together  into  a  hole  under  the  gallows. f 

The  eleventh  of  May  was  made  remarkable  by  more  than 


*  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  6.  The  editor  of  the  Oxford  edition  of  Burnet  attempts  to 
excuse  this  act  by  alleging  that  Claverhouse  was  then  employed  to  intercept  all 
communications  between  Argyle  and  Monmouth,  and  by  supposing  that  John 
Brown  may  have  been  detected  in  conveying  intelligence  between  the  rebel  camps. 
Unfortunately  for  this  hypothesis,  John  Brown  was  shot  on  the  first  of  May,  when 
both  Argyle  and  Monmouth  were  in  Holland,  and  when  there  was  no  insurrection 
in  any  part  of  our  island.  f  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  6. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  457 

one  great  crime.  Some  rigid  Calvinists  had  from  the  doc- 
trine of  reprobation  drawn  the  consequence  that  to  pray  for 
any  person  who  had  been  predestined  to  perdition  was  an  act 
of  mutiny  against  the  eternal  decrees  of  the  Supreme  Being. 
Three  poor  laboring  men,  deeply  imbued  with  this  unamia- 
ble  divinity,  wrere  stopped  by  an  officer  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Glasgow.  They  were  asked  whether  they  would  pray  for 
King  James  the  Seventh.  They  refused  to  do  so  except  un- 
der the  condition  that  he  was  one  of  the  elect.  A  file  of 
musketeers  was  drawn  out.  The  prisoners  knelt  down :  they 
were  blindfolded ;  and,  within  an  hour  after  they  had  been 
arrested,  their  blood  was  lapped  up  by  the  dogs.* 

While  this  was  done  in  Clydesdale,  an  act  not  less  horrible 
was  perpetrated  in  Eskdale.  One  of  the  proscribed  Cove- 
nanters, overcome  by  sickness,  had  found  shelter  in  the  house 
of  a  respectable  widow,  and  had  died  there.  The  corpse  was 
discovered  by  the  Laird  of  Westerhall,  a  petty  tyrant  who  had, 
in  the  days  of  the  Covenant,  professed  inordinate  zeal  for 
the  Presbyterian  Church,  who  had,  since  the  Restoration,  pur- 
chased the  favor  of  the  government  by  apostasy,  and  who  felt 

*  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  6.  It  has  been  confidently  asserted,  by  persons  who  have 
not  taken  the  trouble  to  look  at  the  authority  to  which  I  have  referred,  that  I 
have  grossly  calumniated  these  unfortunate  men ;  that  I  do  not  understand  the 
Calvinistic  theology;  and  that  it  is  impossible  that  members  of  the  Church  of 
Scotland  can  have  refused  to  pray  for  any  man,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  not 
one  of  the  elect. 

I  can  only  refer  to  the  narrative  which  Wodrow  has  inserted  in  his  History,  and 
which  he  justly  calls  plain  and  natural.  That  narrative  is  signed  by  two  eye-wit- 
nesses, and  Wodrow,  before  he  published  it,  submitted  it  to  a  third  eye-witness, 
who  pronounced  it  strictly  accurate.  From  that  narrative  I  will  extract  the  only 
words  which  bear  on  the  point  in  question :  "  When  all  the  three  were  taken,  the 
officers  consulted  among  themselves,  and,  withdrawing  to  the  west  side  of  the  town, 
questioned  the  prisoners,  particularly  if  they  would  pray  for  King  James  VII. 
They  answered,  they  would  pray  for  all  within  the  election  of  grace.  Balfour 
said,  Do  you  question  the  King's  election  ?  They  answered,  sometimes  they  ques- 
tioned their  own.  Upon  which  he  swore  dreadfully,  and  said  they  should  die 
presently,  because  they  would  not  pray  for  Christ's  vicegerent,  and  so,  without 
one  word  more,  commanded  Thomas  Cook  to  go  to  his  prayers,  for  he  should  die." 

In  this  narrative  Wodrow  saw  nothing  improbable ;  and  I  shall  not  easily  be 
convinced  that  any  writer  now  living  understands  the  feelings  and  opinions  of  the 
Covenanters  better  than  Wodrov,-  did  (1857). 


458  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

toward  the  party  which  he  had  deserted  the  implacable  hatred 
of  an  apostate.  This  man  pulled  down  the  house  of  the  poor 
woman,  carried  away  her  furniture,  and,  leaving  her  and  her 
younger  children  to  wander  in  the  fields,  dragged  her  son  An- 
drew, who  was  still  a  lad,  before  Claverhouse,  who  happened 
to  be  inarching  through  that  part  of  the  country.  Claverhouse 
was  just  then  strangely  lenient.  Some  thought  that  he  had 
not  been  quite  himself  since  the  death  of  the  Christian  car- 
rier, ten  days  before.  But  Westerhall  was  eager  to  signalize 
his  loyalty,  and  extorted  a  sullen  consent.  The  guns  were 
loaded,  and  the  youth  was  told  to  pull  his  bonnet  over  his 
face.  He  refused,  and  stood  confronting  his  murderers  with 
the  Bible  in  his  hand.  "  I  can  look  you  in  the  face,"  he  said ; 
"I  have  done  nothing  of  which  I  need  be  ashamed.  But 
how  will  you  look  in  that  day  when  you  shall  be  judged  by 
what  is  written  in  this  book  ?"  He  fell  dead,  and  was  buried 
in  the  moor.* 

On  the  same  day  two  women,  Margaret  Maclachlan  and 
Margaret  Wilson,  the  former  an  aged  widow,  the  latter  a 
maiden  of  eighteen,  suffered  death  for  their  religion  in  Wig- 
tonshire.  They  were  offered  their  lives  if  they  would  con- 
sent to  abjure  the  cause  of  the  insurgent  Covenanters,  and  to 
attend  the  Episcopal  worship.  They  refused  ;  and  they  were 
sentenced  to  be  drowned.  They  were  carried  to  a  spot  which 
the  Sol  way  overflows  twice  a  day,  and  were  fastened  to  stakes 
fixed  in  the  sand,  between  high  and  low  water  mark.  The 
elder  sufferer  was  placed  near  to  the  advancing  flood,  in  the 
hope  that  her  last  agonies  might  terrify  the  younger  into  sub- 
mission. The  sight  was  dreadful.  But  the  courage  of  the 
survivor  was  sustained  by  an  enthusiasm  as  lofty  as  any  that 
is  recorded  in  martyrology.  She  saw  the  sea  draw  nearer  and 
nearer,  but  gave  no  sign  of  alarm.  She  prayed  and  sang 
verses  of  psalms  till  the  waves  choked  her  voice.  After  she 
had  tasted  the  bitterness  of  death,  she  was,  by  a  cruel  mercy, 
unbound  and  restored  to  life.  When  she  came  to  herself, 
pitying  friends  and  neighbors  implored  her  to  yield.  "  Dear 

*  Wodrow,  in.,  Jx.,  6.     Cloud  of  Witnesses. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  459 

Margaret,  only  say,  God  save  the  King!"  The  poor  girl, 
true  to  her  stern  theology,  gasped  out,  "  May  God  save  him, 
if  it  be  God's  will !"  Her  friends  crowded  round  the  presid- 
ing officer.  "  She  has  said  it ;  indeed,  sir,  she  has  said  it." 
"Will  she  take  the  abjuration?"  he  demanded.  "Never!" 
she  exclaimed.  "  I  am  Christ's :  let  me  go !"  And  the  wa- 
ters closed  over  her  for  the  last  time.* 

Thus  was  Scotland  governed  by  that  prince  whom  ignorant 
men  have  represented  as  a  friend  of  religious  liberty,  whose 
misfortune  it  was  to  be  too  wise  and  too  good  for  the  age  in 
which  he  lived.  Nay,  even  those  laws  which  authorized  him 
to  govern  thus  were  in  his  judgment  reprehensibly  lenient. 
While  his  officers  were  committing  the  murders  which  have 
just  been  related,  he  was  urging  the  Scottish  Parliament  to 
pass  a  new  act  compared  with  which  all  former  acts  might  be 
called  merciful. 

In  England  his  authority,  though  great,  was  circumscribed 
by  ancient  and  noble  laws  which  even  the  Tories  would  not 
patiently  have  seen  him  infringe.  Here  he  could  not  hurry 
Dissenters  before  military  tribunals,  or  enjoy  at  council  the 
luxury  of  seeing  them  swoon  in  the  boots.  Here  he  could 
not  drown  young  girls  for  refusing  to  take  the  abjuration,  or 
shoot  poor  countrymen  for  doubting  whether  he  was  one  of 
the  elect.  Yet  even  in  England  he  continued  to  persecute 
the  Puritans  as  far  as  his  power  extended,  till  events  which 
will  hereafter  be  related  induced  him  to  form  the  design  of 
uniting  Puritans  and  Papists  in  a  coalition  for  the  humilia- 
tion and  spoliation  of  the  Established  Church. 

One  sect  of  Protestant  Dissenters  indeed  he,  even  at  this 
early  period  of  his  reign,  regarded  with  some  tenderness,  the 
Society  of  Friends.  His  partiality  for  that  singular  fraternity 

*  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  6.  The  epitaph  of  Margaret  Wilson,  in  the  church-yard  at 
Wigton,  is  printed  in  the  Appendix  to  the  Cloud  of  Witnesses : 

"  Murdered  for  owning  Christ  supreme 
Head  of  his  Church,  and  no  more  crime, 
But  her  not  owning  Prelacy, 
And  not  abjuring  Presbytery, 
Within  the  sea,  tied  to  a  stake, 
She  suffered  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake." 


460  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

cannot  be  attributed  to  religious  sympathy ;  for,  of  all  who 
acknowledge  the  divine  mission  of  Jesus,  the  Ro- 

Ffleling  of 

James  toward    man  Catholic  and  the  Quaker  differ  most  widely. 

the  Quakers.  .  . 

It  may  seem  paradoxical  to  say  that  this  very  cir- 
cumstance constituted  a  tie  between  the  Roman  Catholic  and 
the  Quaker ;  yet  such  was  really  the  case.  For  they  deviated 
in  opposite  directions  so  far  from  what  the  great  body  of  the 
nation  regarded  as  right,  that  even  liberal  men  generally  con- 
sidered them  both  as  lying  beyond  the  pale  of  the  largest  tol- 
eration. Thus  the  two  extreme  sects,  precisely  because  they 
were  extreme  sects,  had  a  common  interest  distinct  from  the 
interest  of  the  intermediate  sects.  The  Quakers  were  also 
guiltless  of  all  offence  against  James  and  his  House.  They 
had  not  been  in  existence  as  a  community  till  the  war  be- 
tween his  father  and  the  Long  Parliament  was  drawing 
toward  a  close.  They  had  been  cruelly  persecuted  by  some 
of  the  revolutionary  governments.  They  had,  since  the 
Restoration,  in  spite  of  much  ill  usage,  submitted  themselves 
meekly  to  the  royal  authority.  For  they  had,  though  reason- 
ing on  premises  which  the  Anglican  divines  regarded  as  het- 
erodox, arrived,  like  the  Anglican  divines,  at  the  conclusion 
that  no  excess  of  tyranny  on  the  part  of  a  prince  can  justify 
active  resistance  on  the  part  of  a  subject.  Ko  libel  on  the 
government  had  ever  been  traced  to  a  Quaker.*  In  no  con- 
spiracy against  the  government  had  a  Quaker  been  implicated. 
The  society  had  not  joined  in  the  clamor  for  the  Exclusion 
Bill,  and  had  solemnly  condemned  the  Rye-house  Plot  as  a 
hellish  design  and  a  work  of  the  devil.f  Indeed,  the  Friends 
then  took  very  little  part  in  civil  contentions ;  for  they  were 
not,  as  now,  congregated  in  large  towns,  but  were  generally 
engaged  in  agriculture,  a  pursuit  from  which  they  have  been 
gradually  driven  by  the  vexations  consequent  on  their  strange 
scruple  about  paying  tithe.  They  were,  therefore,  far  re- 
moved from  the  scene  of  political  strife.  They  also,  even  in 
domestic  privacy,  avoided  on  principle  all  political  conversa- 


*  See  the  letter  to  King  Charles  II.  prefixed  to  Barclay's  Apology, 
f  Sewel's  History  of  the  Quakers,  Book  X. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  461 

tion ;  for  such  conversation  was,  in  their  opinion,  unfavor- 
able to  their  spirituality  of  mind,  and  tended  to  disturb  the 
austere  composure  of  their  deportment.  The  Yearly  Meetings 
of  that  age  repeatedly  admonished  the  brethren  not  to  hold 
discourse  touching  affairs  of  state.*  Even  within  the  mem- 
ory of  persons  now  living  those  grave  elders  who  retained  the 
habits  of  an  earlier  generation  systematically  discouraged  such 
worldly  talk.f  It  was  natural  that  James  should  make  a 
wide  distinction  between  these  harmless  people  and  those 
fierce  and  restless  sects  which  considered  resistance  to  tyranny 
as  a  Christian  duty,  which  had,  in  Germany,  France,  and  Hol- 
land, made  war  on  legitimate  princes,  and  which  had,  dur- 
ing four  generations,  borne  peculiar  enmity  to  the  House  of 
Stuart. 

It  happened,  moreover,  that  it  was  possible  to  grant  large 
relief  to  the  Roman  Catholic  and  to  the  Quaker  without  miti- 
gating the  sufferings  of  the  Puritan  sects.  A  law  was  in  force 
which  imposed  severe  penalties  on  every  person  who  refused 
to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy  when  required  to  do  so.  This 
law  did  not  affect  Presbyterians,  Independents,  or  Baptists ; 
for  they  were  all  ready  to  call  God  to  witness  that  they 
renounced  all  spiritual  connection  with  foreign  prelates  and 
potentates.  But  the  Roman  Catholic  would  not  swear  that 
the  Pope  had  no  jurisdiction  in  England,  and  the  Quaker 
would  not  swear  to  anything.  On  the  other  hand,  neither  the 
Roman  Catholic  nor  the  Quaker  was  touched  by  the  Five 
Mile  Act,  which,  of  all  the  laws  in  the  Statute-book,  was  per- 
haps the  most  annoying  to  the  Puritan  Non-conformists.;}: 

The  Quakers  had  a  powerful  and  zealous  advocate  at  court. 

*  Minutes  of  Yearly  Meetings,  1689, 1690. 

f  Clarkson  on  Quakerism ;  Peculiar  Customs,  Chapter  v. 

\  After  this  passage  was  written,  I  found,  in  the  British  Museum,  a  Manuscript 
(Harl.  MS.,  7506),  entitled  "An  Account  of  the  Seizures,  Sequestrations,  great  Spoil 
and  Havock  made  upon  the  Estates  of  the  several  Protestant  Dissenters  called 
Quakers,  upon  Prosecution  of  old  Statutes  made  against  Papist  and  Popish  Recu- 
sants." The  manuscript  is  marked  as  having  belonged  to  James,  and  appears 
to  have  been  given  by  his  confidential  servant,  Colonel  Graham,  to  Lord  Oxford. 
This  circumstance  appears  to  me  to  confirm  the  view  which  I  have  taken  of  the 
King's  conduct  toward  the  Quakers. 


462  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

Though,  as   a   class,  they  mixed  little  with  the  world,  and 
shunned  politics  as  a  pursuit  dangerous  to  their 

William  Penn.          .    .         ,   .  ,  .  ,    , 

spiritual  interests,  one  01  them,  widely  distinguished 
from  the  rest  by  station  and  fortune,  lived  in  the  highest  cir- 
cles, and  had  constant  access  to  the  royal  ear.  This  was  the 
celebrated  William  Penn.  His  father  had  held  great  naval 
commands,  had  been  a  Commissioner  of  the  Admiralty,  had 
sat  in  Parliament,  had  received  the  honor  of  knighthood,  and 
had  been  encouraged  to  expect  a  peerage.  The  son  had  been 
liberally  educated,  and  had  been  designed  for  the  profession 
of  arms,  but  had,  while  still  young,  injured  his  prospects  and 
disgusted  his  friends  by  joining  what  was  then  generally  con- 
sidered as  a  gang  of  crazy  heretics.  He  had  been  sent  some- 
times to  the  Tower,  and  sometimes  to  Newgate.  He  had 
been  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  for  preaching  in  defiance  of  the 
law.  After  a  time,  however,  he  had  been  reconciled  to  his 
family,  and  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  such  powerful  protec- 
tion that,  while  all  the  jails  of  England  were  filled  with  his 
brethren,  he  was  permitted,  during  many  years,  to  profess  his 
opinions  without  molestation.  Toward  the  close  of  the  late 
reign  he  had  obtained,  in  satisfaction  of  an  old  debt  due  to 
him  from  the  crown,  the  grant  of  an  immense  region  in  North 
America.  In  this  tract,  then  peopled  only  by  Indian  hunters, 
he  had  invited  his  persecuted  friends  to  settle.  His  colony 
was  still  in  its  infancy  when  James  mounted  the  throne. 

Between  James  and  Penn  there  had  long  been  a  familiar 
acquaintance.  The  Quaker  now  became  a  courtier,  and  al- 
most a  favorite.  He  was  every  day  summoned  from  the  gal- 
lery into  the  closet,  and  sometimes  had  long  audiences  while 
peers  were  kept  waiting  in  the  antechambers.  It  was  noised 
abroad  that  he  had  more  real  power  to  help  and  hurt  than 
many  nobles  who  filled  high  offices.  He  was  soon  surrounded 
by  flatterers  and  suppliants.  His  house  at  Kensington  was 
sometimes  thronged,  at  his  hour  of  rising,  by  more  than  two 
hundred  suitors.*  He  paid  dear,  however,  for  this  seeming 

*  Penn's  visits  to  Whitehall,  and  levees  at  Kensington,  are  described  with  great 
vivacity,  though  in  very  bad  Latin,  by  Gerard  Croese.  "  Suraebat,"  he  says,  "  rex 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  463 

prosperity.  Even  his  own  sect  looked  coldly  on  him,  and  re-> 
quited  his  services  with  obloquy.  He  was  loudly  accused  of 
being  a  Papist,  nay,  a  Jesuit.  Some  affirmed  that  he  had 
been  educated  at  Saint  Omers,  and  others  that  he  had  been 
ordained  at  Rome.  These  calumnies,  indeed,  could  find  credit 
only  with  the  undiscerning  multitude ;  but  with  these  calum- 
nies were  mingled  accusations  much  better  founded. 

To  speak  the  whole  truth  concerning  Penn  is  a  task  which 
requires  some  courage ;  for  he  is  rather  a  mythical  than  a 
historical  person.  Rival  nations  and  hostile  sects  have  agreed 
in  canonizing  him.  England  is  proud  of  his  name.  A  great 
commonwealth  beyond  the  Atlantic  regards  him  with  a  rev- 
erence similar  to  that  which  the  Athenians  felt  for  Theseus, 
and  the  Romans  for  Quirinus.  The  respectable  society  of 
which  he  was  a  member  honors  him  as  an  apostle.  By  pious 
men  of  other  persuasions  he  is  generally  regarded  as  a  bright 
pattern  of  Christian  virtue.  Meanwhile  admirers  of  a  very 
different  sort  have  sounded  his  praises.  The  French  philoso- 
phers of  the  eighteenth  century  pardoned  what  they  regarded 
as  his  superstitious  fancies  in  consideration  of  his  contempt 
for  priests,  and  of  his  cosmopolitan  benevolence,  impartially 
extended  to  all  races  and  to  all  creeds.  His  name  has  thus 
become,  throughout  all  civilized  countries,  a  synonyme  for 
probity  and  philanthropy. 

Nor  is  this  high  reputation  altogether,  unmerited.  Penn 
was  without  doubt  a  man  of  eminent  virtues.  He  had  a 
strong  sense  of  religious  duty  and  a  fervent  desire  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  mankind.  On  one  or  two  points  of  high 
importance  he  had  notions  more  correct  than  were,  in  his  day, 
common  even  among  men  of  enlarged  minds ;  and,  as  the 
proprietor  and  legislator  of  a  province  which,  being  almost 
uninhabited  when  it  came  into  his  possession,  afforded  a  clear 

ssepe  secretum,  non  horarium,  vero  horarum  plurium,  in  quo  de  variis  rebus  cum 
Penno  serio  sermonem  conferebat,  et  interim  differebat  audire  praecipuorum  no- 
bilium  ordinem,  qui  hoc  interim  spatio  in  proccetone,  in  proximo,  regem  conventum 
praesto  erant."  Of  the  crowd  of  suitors  at  Penn's  house,  Croese  says,  "  Visi  quan- 
doque  de  hoc  genere  hominum  non  minus  bis  centum." — Historia  Quakeriana,  lib. 
ii.,  1695.  • 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  IV. 

field  for  moral  experiments,  he  had  the  rare  good  fortune  of 
being  able  to  carry  his  theories  into  practice  without  any 
compromise,  and  yet  without  any  shock  to  existing  institu- 
tions. He  will  always  be  mentioned  with  honor  as  a  founder 
of  a  colony,  who  did  not,  in  his  dealings  with  a  savage  people, 
abuse  the  strength  derived  from  civilization,  and  as  a  law- 
giver who,  in  an  age  of  persecution,  made  religious  liberty 
the  corner-stone  of  a  polity.  But  his  writings  and  his  life 
furnish  abundant  proofs  that  he  was  not  a  man  of  strong 
sense.  lie  had  no  skill  in  reading  the  characters  of  others. 
His  confidence  in  persons  less  virtuous  than  himself  led  him 
into  great  errors  and  misfortunes.  His  enthusiasm  for  one 
great  principle  sometimes  impelled  him  to  violate  other  great 
principles  which  he  ought  to  have  held  sacred.  Nor  was  his 
rectitude  altogether  proof  against  the  temptations  to  which 
it  was  exposed  in  that  splendid  and  polite,  but  deeply  cor- 
rupted society,  with  which  he  now  mingled.  The  whole 
court  was  in  a  ferment  with  intrigues  of  gallantry  and  in- 
trigues of  ambition.  The  traffic  in  honors,  places,  and  par- 
dons was  incessant.  It  was  natural  that  a  man  who  was  daily 
seen  at  the  palace,  and  who  was  known  to  have  free  access  to 
majesty,  should  be  frequently  importuned  to  use  his  influence 
for  purposes  which  a  rigid  morality  must  condemn.  The  in- 
tegrity of  Penn  had  stood  firm  against  obloquy  and  persecu- 
tion. But  now,  attacked  by  royal  smiles,  by  female  blandish- 
ments, by  the  insinuating  eloquence  and  delicate  flattery  of 
veteran  diplomatists  and  courtiers,  his  resolution  began  to 
give  way.  Titles  and  phrases  against  which  he  had  often 
borne  his  testimony  dropped  occasionally  from  his  lips  and  his 
pen.  It  would  be  well  if  he  had  been  guilty  of  nothing  worse 
than  such  compliances  with  the  fashions  of  the  world.  Un- 
happily it  cannot  be  concealed  that  he  bore  a  chief  part  in 
some  transactions  condemned,  not  merely  by  the  rigid  code 
of  the  society  to  which  he  belonged,  but  by  the  general  sense 
of  all  honest  men.  He  afterward  solemnly  protested  that  his 
hands  were  pure  from  illicit  gain,  and  that  he  had  never  re- 
ceived any  gratuity  from  those  whom  he  had  obliged,  though 
he  might  easily,  while  his  influence  at  court  lasted,  have  made 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  465 

a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds.*  To  this  assertion 
full  credit  is  due.  But  bribes  may  be  offered  to  vanity  as 
well  as  to  cupidity ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  Penn 
was  cajoled  into  bearing  a  part  in  some  unjustifiable  transac- 
tions of  which  others  enjoyed  the  profits. 

The  first  use  which  he  made  of  his  credit  was  highly  com- 
mendable. He  strongly  represented  the  sufferings  of  his 
peculiar  favor  brethren  to  the  new  King,  who  saw  with  pleasure 
man'cathSuis  tuat  ^  was  possible  to  grant  indulgence  to  these 

and  Quakers.      ^fa   sectaries   an(J  to    the    Koman    Catliolics,  witll- 

out  showing  similar  favor  to  other  classes  which  were  then 
under  persecution.  A  list  was  framed  of  prisoners  against 
whom  proceedings  had  been  instituted  for  not  taking  the 
oaths,  or  for  not  going  to  church,  and  of  whose  loyalty  certifi- 
cates had  been  produced  to  the  government.  These  persons 
were  discharged,  and  orders  were  given  that  no  similar  pro- 
ceeding should  be  instituted  till  the  royal  pleasure  should  be 
further  signified.  In  this  way  about  fifteen  hundred  Quakers, 
and  a  still  greater  number  of  Roman  Catholics,  regained  their 
liberty.f 

And  now  the  time  had  arrived  when  the  English  Parliament 
wras  to  meet.  The  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  who 
had  repaired  to  the  capital  were  so  numerous  that  there  was 
much  doubt  whether  their  chamber,  as  it  was  then  fitted  up, 
would  afford  sufficient  accommodation  for  them.  They  em- 
ployed the  days  which  immediately  preceded  the  opening  of 
the  session  in  talking  over  public  affairs  with  each  other  and 
with  the  agents  of  the  government.  A  great  meeting  of  the 
loyal  party  was  held  at  the  Fountain  Tavern  in  the  Strand ; 
and  Roger  Lestrange,  who  had  recently  been  knighted  by  the 

*  "  Twenty  thousand  into  my  pocket,  and  a  hundred  thousand  into  my  province." 
— Penn's  Letter  to  Popple. 

\  These  orders,  signed  by  Sunderland,  will  be  found  in  Sewel's  History.  They 
bear  date  April  18, 1685.  They  are  written  in  a  style  singularly  obscure  and  in- 
tricate ;  but  I  think  that  I  have  exhibited  the  meaning  correctly.  I  have  not  been 
able  to  find  any  proof  that  any  person,  not  a  Roman  Catholic  or  a  Quaker,  regained 
his  freedom  under  these  orders.  See  Neat's  History  of  the  Puritans,  Vol.  II., 
Chap.  ii. ;  Gerard  Croese,  lib.  ii.  Croese  estimates  the  number  of  Quakers  liber- 
ated at  fourteen  hundred  and  sixty. 

I.— 30 


466  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

King,  and  returned  to  Parliament  by  the  city  of  Winchester, 
took  a  leading  part  in  their  consultations.* 

It  soon  appeared  that  a  large  portion  of  the  Commons  had 
views  which  did  not  altogether  agree  with  those  of  the  court. 
The  Tory  country  gentlemen  were,  with  scarcely  one  excep- 
tion, desirous  to  maintain  the  Test  Act  and  the  Habeas  Cor- 
pus Act ;  and  some  among  them  talked  of  voting  the  revenue 
only  for  a  term  of  years.  But  they  were  perfectly  ready  to 
enact  severe  laws  against  the  Whigs,  and  would  gladly  have 
seen  all  the  supporters  of  the  Exclusion  Bill  made  incapable 
of  holding  office.  The  King,  on  the  other  hand,  desired  to 
obtain  from  the  Parliament  a  revenue  for  life,  the  admission 
of  Roman  Catholics  to  office,  and  the  repeal  of  the  Habeas 
Corpus  Act.  On  these  three  objects  his  heart  was  set ;  and 
he  was  by  no  means  disposed  to  accept  as  a  substitute  for 
them  a  penal  law  against  Exclusionists.  Such  a  law,  indeed, 
would  have  been  positively  unpleasing  to  him ;  for  one  class 
of  Exclusionists  stood  high  in  his  favor,  that  class  of  which 
Sunderland  was  the  representative,  that  class  which  had  joined 
the  Whigs  in  the  days  of  the  plot,  merely  because  the  Whigs 
were  predominant,  and  which  had  changed  with  the  change 
of  fortune.  James  justly  regarded  these  renegades  as  the 
most  serviceable  tools  that  he  could  employ.  It  was  not  from 
the  stout-hearted  Cavaliers,  who  had  been  true  to  him  in  his 
adversity,  that  he  could  expect  abject  and  unscrupulous  obe- 
dience in  his  prosperity.  The  men  who,  impelled,  not  by  zeal 
for  liberty  or  for  religion,  but  merely  by  selfish  cupidity  and 
selfish  fear,  had  assisted  to  oppress  him  when  he  was  weak, 
were  the  very  men  who,  impelled  by  the  same  cupidity  and 
the  same  fear,  would  assist  him  to  oppress  his  people  now  that 
lie  was  strong,  f  Though  vindictive,  he  was  not  indiscrimi- 
nately vindictive.  Not  a  single  instance  can  be  mentioned  in 
which  he  showed  a  generous  compassion  to  those  who  had  op- 

*  Barillon,  ^^-'  1685.     Observator,  May  27,  1685 ;  Sir  J.  Reresby's  Memoirs. 

f  Lewis  wrote  to  Barillon  about  this  class  of  Exclusionists  as  follows :  "  L'in- 
teret  qu'ils  auront  a  effacer  cette  tache  par  des  services  considerables  les  portera, 
selon  toutes  les  apparances,  a  le  servir  plus  utilement  que  ne  pourroient  faire 
ceux  qui  ont  toujours  6te'  les  plus  attaches  a  sa  personne"  (May  ^f,  1685). 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  467 

posed  him  honestly  and  on  public  grounds.  But  he  frequent- 
ly spared  and  promoted  those  whom  some  vile  motive  had  in- 
duced to  injure  him.  For  that  meanness  which  marked  them 
out  as  fit  implements  of  tyranny  was  so  precious  in  his  estima- 
tion that  he  regarded  it  with  some  indulgence  even  when  it 
was  exhibited  at  his  own  expense. 

The  King's  wishes  were  communicated  through  several 
channels  to  the  Tory  members  of  the  Lower  House.  The 
majority  was  easily  persuaded  to  forego  all  thoughts  of  a 
penal  law  against  the  Exclusionists,  and  to  consent  that  His 
Majesty  should  have  the  revenue  for  life.  But  about  the 
Test  Act  and  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  the  emissaries  of  the 
court  could  obtain  no  satisfactory  assurances.*  •  •- 

On  the  nineteenth  of  May  the  session  was  opened.     The 

benches  of  the  Commons  presented  a  singular  spectacle.    That 

great  party,  which,  in  the  last  three  Parliaments, 

Meeting  of          f  J          J ' 

the  English      had  been  predominant,  had  now  dwindled  to  a  pit- 

Parliament. 

iable  minority,  and  was  indeed  little  more  than  a 
fifteenth  part  of  the  House.  Of  the  five  hundred  and  thir- 
teen knights  and  burgesses  only  a  hundred  and  thirty -five 
had  ever  sat  in  that  place  before.  It  is  evident  that  a  body 
of  men  so  raw  and  inexperienced  must  have  been,  in  some 
important  qualities,  far  below  the  average  of  our  representa- 
tive assemblies,  f 

The  management  of  the  House  was  confided  by  James  to 
two  peers  of  the  kingdom  of  Scotland.  One  of  them,  Charles 
Middleton,  Earl  of  Middleton,  after  holding  high  office  at  Ed- 
inburgh, had,  shortly  before  the  death  of  the  late  King,  been 
sworn  of  the  English  Privy  Council,  and  appointed  one  of 
the  Secretaries  of  State.  With  him  was  joined  Richard  Gra- 
ham, Viscount  Preston,  who  had  long  held  the  post  of  Envoy 
at  Versailles. 

The  first  business  of  the  Commons  was  to  elect  a  Speaker. 
Who  should  be  the  man,  was  a  question  which  had  been  much 
debated  in  the  cabinet.  Guildford  had  recommended  Sir 


*  Barillon,  May  ^,  1685  ;  Sir  John  Reresby's  Memoirs, 
f  Burnet,  i.,  626;  Evelyn's  Diary,  May  22,  1685. 


4:68  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  IV. 

Thomas  Meres,  who,  like  himself,  ranked  among  the  Trim- 
Trevor  chosen  niers.  Jeffreys,  who  missed  no  opportunity  of  cross- 
speaker.  jng  ^e  LQJ.^  Keeper,  had  pressed  the  claims  of  Sir 
John  Trevor.  Trevor  had  been  bred  half  a  pettifogger  and 
half  a  gambler,  had  brought  to  political  life  sentiments  and 
principles  worthy  of  both  his  callings,  had  become  a  parasite 
of  the  Chief -justice,  and  could,  on  occasion,  imitate,  not  unsuc- 
cessfully, the  vituperative  style  of  his  patron.  The  minion 
of  Jeffreys  was,  as  might  have  been  expected,  preferred  by 
James,  was  proposed  by  Middleton,  and  was  chosen  without 
opposition.* 

Thus  far  all  went  smoothly.  But  an  adversary  of  no  com- 
mon prowess  was  watching  his  time.  This  was  Edward  Sey- 
ctwracterof  niour  of  Berry  Pomeroy  Castle,  member  for  the 
city  of  Exeter.  Seymour's  birth  put  him  on  a  level 
with  the  noblest  subjects  in  Europe.  He  was  the  right  heir 
male  of  the  body  of  that  Duke  of  Somerset  who  had  been 
brother-in-law  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  Protector  of 
the  realm  of  England.  In  the  limitation  of  the  dukedom  of 
Somerset,  the  elder  son  of  the  Protector  had  been  postponed 
to  the  younger  son.  From  the  younger  son  the  Dukes  of 
Somerset  were  descended.  From  the  elder  son  was  descended 
the  family  which  dwelt  at  Berry  Pomeroy.  Seymour's  for- 
tune was  large,  and  his  influence  in  the  west  of  England  ex- 
tensive. Nor  was  the  importance  derived  from  descent  and 
wealth  the  only  importance  which  belonged  to  him.  He  was 
one  of  the  most  skilful  debaters  and  men  of  business  in  the 
kingdom.  He  had  sat  many  years  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, had  studied  all  its  rules  and  usages,  and  thoroughly  un- 
derstood its  peculiar  temper.  He  had  been  elected  Speaker 
in  the  late  reign  under  circumstances  which  made  that  dis- 
tinction peculiarly  honorable.  During  several  generations 
none  but  lawyers  had  been  called  to  the  chair ;  and  he  was 
the  first  country  gentleman  whose  abilities  and  acquirements 
enabled  him  to  break  that  long  prescription.  He  had  subse- 
quently held  high  political  office,  and  had  sat  in  the  cabinet. 

*  Roger  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  218 ;  Bramston's  Memoirs. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  469 

But  his  haughty  and  unaccommodating  temper  had  given  so 
much  disgust  that  he  had  been  forced  to  retire.  He  was  a 
Tory  and  a  Churchman :  he  had  strenuously  opposed  the  Ex- 
clusion Bill:  he  had  been  persecuted  by  the  Whigs  in  the 
day  of  their  prosperity ;  and  he  could  therefore  safely  venture 
to  hold  language  for  which  any  person  suspected  of  repub- 
licanism would  have  been  sent  to  the  Tower.  He  had  long 
been  at  the  head  of  a  strong  parliamentary  connection,  which 
was  called  the  Western  Alliance,  and  which  included  many 
gentlemen  of  Devonshire,  Somersetshire,  and  Cornwall.* 

In  every  House  of  Commons,  a  member  who  unites  elo- 
quence, knowledge,  and  habits  of  business,  to  opulence  and 
illustrious  descent,  must  be  highly  considered.  But  in  a 
House  of  Commons  from  which  many  of  the  most  eminent 
orators  and  parliamentary  tacticians  of  the  age  were  excluded, 
and  which  was  crowded  with  people  who  had  never  heard 
a  debate,  the  influence  of  such  a  man  was  peculiarly  formi- 
dable. Weight  of  moral  character  was  indeed  wanting  to 
Edward  Seymour.  He  was  licentious,  profane,  corrupt,  too 
proud  to  behave  with  common  politeness,  yet  not  too  proud 
to  pocket  illicit  gain.  But  he  was  so  useful  an  ally,  and  so 
mischievous  an  enemy,  that  he  was  frequently  courted  even 
by  those  who  most  detested  hirn.f  • 

He  was  now  in  bad  humor  with  the  government.  His  in- 
terest had  been  weakened  in  some  places  by  the  remodelling 
of  the  western  boroughs :  his  pride  had  been  wounded  by  the 
elevation  of  Trevor  to  the  chair ;  and  he  took  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  revenging  himself. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  May  the  Commons  were  sum- 
moned to  the  bar  of  the  Lords ;  and  the  King,  seated  on  his 
throne,  made  a  speech  to  both  Houses.  He  de- 
speech  to  tue  clared  himself  resolved  to  maintain  the  established 
government  in  Church  and  State.  But  he  weak- 
ened the  effect  of  this  declaration  by  addressing  an  extraordi- 


*  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  228 ;  News  from  Westminster, 
f  Burnet,  i.,  382 ;  Letter  from  Lord  Conway  to  Sir  George  Rawdon,  Dec.  28, 1677, 
in  the  Rawdon  Papers. 


4:70  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

nary  admonition  to  the  Commons.  .  He  was  apprehensive,  he 
said,  that  they  might  be  inclined  to  dole  out  money  to  him, 
from  time  to  time,  in  the  hope  that  they  should  thus  force 
him  to  call  them  frequently  together.  But  he  must  warn 
them  that  he  was  not  to  be  so  dealt  with,  and  that,  if  they 
wished  him  to  meet  them  often,  they  must  use  him  well. 
As  it  was  evident  that  without  money  the  government  could 
not  be  carried  on,  these  expressions  plainly  implied  that,  if 
they  did  not  give  him  as  much  money  as  he  wished,  he  would 
take  it.  Strange  to  say,  this  harangue  was  received  with  loud 
cheers  by  the  Tory  gentlemen  at  the  bar.  Such  acclamations 
were  then  usual.  It  has  now  been,  during  many  years,  the 
grave  and  decorous  usage  of  Parliaments  to  hear,  in  respect- 
ful silence,  all  expressions,  acceptable  or  unacceptable,  which 
are  uttered  from  the  throne.* 

It  was  then  the  custom  that,  after  the  King  had  concisely 
explained  his  reasons  for  calling  Parliament  together,  the  min- 
ister who  held  the  Great  Seal  should,  at  more  length,  explain 
to  the  Houses  the  state  of  public  affairs.  Guildford,  in  im- 
itation of  his  predecessors,  Clarendon,  Bridgeman,  Shaftes- 
bury,  and  Nottingham,  had  prepared  an  elaborate  oration,  but 
found,  to  his  great  mortification,  that  his  services  were  not 
wanted.f 

As  soon  as  the  Commons  had  returned  to  their  own  chain- 
Debate  in  the  her,  it  was  proposed  that  they  should  resolve  them- 
commons.  selves  into  a  committee  for  the  purpose  of  settling 
a  revenue  on  the  King. 

Then  Seymour  stood  up.  How  he  stood,  looking  like  what 
he  was,  the  chief  of  a  dissolute  and  high-spirited  gentry,  with 
speech  of  Sey-  the  artificial  ringlets  clustering  in  fashionable  pro- 
fusion round  his  shoulders,  and  a  mingled  expres- 
sion of  voluptuousness  and  disdain  in  his  eye  and  on  his  lip, 
the  likenesses  of  him  which  still  remain  enable  us  to  imagine. 
It  was  not,  the  haughty  Cavalier  said,  his  wish  that  the  Par- 
liament should  withhold  from  the  crown  the  means  of  carry- 

*  London  Gazette,  May  25,  1685 ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  May  22,  1685. 
f  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  256. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  471 

ing  on  the  government.  But  was  there  indeed  a  Parliament  ? 
Were  there  not  on  the  benches  many  men  who  had,  as  all  the 
world  knew,  no  right  to  sit  there,  many  men  whose  elections 
were  tainted  by  corruption,  many  men  forced  by  intimidation 
on  reluctant  voters,  and  many  men  returned  by  corporations 
which  had  no  legal  existence?  Had  not  constituent  bodies 
been  remodelled,  in  defiance  of  royal  charters  and  of  imme- 
morial prescription  ?  Had  not  returning  officers  been  every- 
where the  unscrupulous  agents  of  the  court  ?  Seeing  that  the 
very  principle  of  representation  had  been  thus  systematically 
attacked,  he  knew  not  how  to  call  the  throng  of  gentlemen 
which  he  saw  around  him  by  the  honorable  name  of  a  House 
of  Commons.  Yet  never  was  there  a  time  when  it  more 
concerned  the  public  weal  that  the  character  of  Parliament 
should  stand  high.  Great  dangers  impended  over  the  eccle- 
siastical and  civil  constitution  of  the  realm.  It  was  matter  of 
vulgar  notoriety,  it  was  matter  which  required  no  proof,  that 
the  Test  Act,  the  rampart  of  religion,  and  the  Habeas  Corpus 
Act,  the  rampart  of  liberty,  were  marked  out  for  destruction. 
"  Before  we  proceed  to  legislate  on  questions  so  momentous, 
let  us  at  least  ascertain  whether  we  really  are  a  legislature. 
Let  our  first  proceeding  be  to  inquire  into  the  manner  in 
which  the  elections  have  been  conducted.  And  let  us  look 
to  it  that  the  inquiry  be  impartial.  For,  if  the  nation  shall 
find  that  no  redress  is  to  be  obtained  by  peaceful  methods, 
we  may  perhaps  ere  long  suffer  the  justice  which  we  refuse 
to  do."  He  concluded  by  moving  that,  before  any  supply 
was  granted,  the  House  would  take  into  consideration  peti- 
tions against  returns,  and  that  no  member  whose  right  to  sit 
was  disputed  should  be  allowed  to  vote. 

Not  a  cheer  was  heard.  Not  a  member  ventured  to  second 
the  motion.  Indeed,  Seymour  had  said  much  that  no  other 
man  could  have  said  with  impunity.  The  proposition  fell  to 
the  ground,  and  was  not  even  entered  on  the  journals.  But 
a  mighty  effect  had  been  produced.  Barillori  informed  his 
master  that  many  who  had  not  dared  to  applaud  that  remark- 
able speech  had  cordially  approved  of  it,  that  it  was  the  uni- 
versal subject  of  conversation  throughout  London,  and  that 


472  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

the  impression  made  on  the  public  mind  seemed  likely  to  be 
durable.* 

The  Commons  went  into  committee  without  delay,  and 
•me  Revenue  voted  to  the  King,  for  life,  the  whole  revenue  en- 
joyed by  his  brother.  f 

The  zealous  churchmen  who  formed  the  majority  of  the 
House  seem  to  have  been  of  opinion  that  the  promptitude 
proceeding  of  with  which  they  had  met  the  wish  of  James,  touch- 
concen»ing0re-  mg  tne  revenue,  entitled  them  to  expect  some  con- 
ugion.  cession  on  his  part.  They  said  that  much  had  been 

done  to  gratify  him,  and  that  they  must  now  do  something  to 
gratify  the  nation.  The  House,  therefore,  resolved  itself  into 
a  Grand  Committee  of  Religion,  in  order  to  consider  the  best 
means  of  providing  for  the  security  of  the  ecclesiastical  es- 
tablishment. In  that  committee  two  resolutions  were  unani- 
mously adopted.  The  first  expressed  fervent  attachment  to 
the  Church  of  England.  The  second  called  on  the  King  to 
put  in  execution  the  penal  laws  against  all  persons  who  were 
not  members  of  that  Church.^ 

The  "VVliigs  would  doubtless  have  wished  to  see  the  Prot- 
estant dissenters  tolerated,  and  the  Roman  Catholics  alone 
persecuted.  But  the  Whigs  were  a  small  and  a  disheartened 
minority.  They  therefore  kept  themselves  as  much  as  possi- 
ble out  of  sight,  dropped  their  party  name,  abstained  from  ob- 
truding their  peculiar  opinions  on  a  hostile  audience,  and  stead- 
ily supported  every  proposition  tending  to  disturb  the  harmony 
which  as  yet  subsisted  between  the  Parliament  and  the  Court. 

When  the  proceedings  of  the  Committee  of  Religion  were 
known  at  Whitehall,  the  King's  anger  was  great.  Nor  can 
we  justly  blame  him  for  resenting  the  conduct  of  the  Tories. 
If  they  were  disposed  to  require  the  rigorous  execution  of  the 
penal  code,  they  clearly  ought  to  have  supported  the  Exclu- 
sion Bill.  For  to  place  a  Papist  on  the  throne,  and  then  to 


*  Bui-net,  i.,  639  ;  Evelyn's  Diary,  May  22,  1685  ;  Barillon,  "'^  and  ^L-  1685. 
The  silence  of  the  journals  perplexed  Mr.  Fox  ;  but  it  is  explained  by  the  circum- 
stance that  Seymour's  motion  was  not  seconded. 

f  Journals,  May  22  ;  Stat.  Jac.  II.,  i.,  1. 

J  Journals,  May  26,  27  ;  Sir  J.  Reresby's  Memoirs. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  -173 

insist  on  his  persecuting  to  the  death  the  teachers  of  that  faith 
in  which  alone,  on  his  principles,  salvation  could  be  found, 
was  monstrous.  In  mitigating  by  a  lenient  administration 
the  severity  of  the  bloody  laws  of  Elizabeth,  the  King  vio- 
lated no  constitutional  principle.  He  only  exerted  a  power 
which  has  always  belonged  to  the  crown.  Nay,  he  only  did 
what  was  afterward  done  by  a  succession  of  sovereigns  zealous 
for  Protestantism,  by  William,  by  Anne,  and  by  the  princes 
of  the  House  of  Brunswick.  Had  he  suffered  Roman  Catho- 
lic priests,  whose  lives  he  could  save  without  infringing  any 
law,  to  be  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered,  for  discharging  what 
he  considered  as  their  first  duty,  he  would  have  drawn  on 
himself  the  hatred  and  contempt  even  of  those  to  whose  prej- 
udices he  had  made  so  shameful  a  concession ;  and,  had  he 
contented  himself  with  granting  to  the  members  of  his  own 
Church  a  practical  toleration  by  a  large  exercise  of  his  un- 
questioned prerogative  of  mercy,  posterity  would  have  unani- 
mously applauded  him. 

The  Commons  probably  felt,  on  reflection,  that  they  had 
acted  absurdly.  They  were  also  disturbed  by  learning  that  the 
King,  to  whom  they  looked  up  with  superstitious  reverence, 
was  greatly  provoked.  They  made  haste,  therefore,  to  atone 
for  their  offence.  In  the  House,  they  unanimously  reversed 
the  decision  which,  in  the  committee,  they  had  unanimously 
adopted,  and  passed  a  resolution  importing  that  they  relied 
with  entire  confidence  on  His  Majesty's  gracious  promise  to 
protect  that  religion  which  was  dearer  to  them  than  life  itself.* 

Three  days  later  the  King  informed  the  House  that  his 
brother  had  left  some  debts,  and  that  the  stores  of  the  navy 
Additional  and  ordnance  were  nearly  exhausted.  It  was 
taxes  voted,  promptly  resolved  that  new  taxes  should  be  im- 
posed. The  person  on  whom  devolved  the  task  of  devising 
ways  and  means  was  Sir  Dudley  North,  younger  brother  of 
sir  Dudley  tne  Lord  Keeper.  Dudley  North  was  one  of  the 
North.  ablest  men  of  his  time.  He  had  early  in  life  been 

sent  to  the  Levant,  and  had  there  been  long  engaged  in  mer- 

*  Commons'  Journals,  May  27,  1685. 


474  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  IV. 

cantile  pursuits.  Most  men  would,  in  such  a  situation,  have 
allowed  their  faculties  to  rust.  For  at  Smyrna  and  Constan- 
tinople there  were  few  books  and  few  intelligent  companions. 
But  the  young  factor  had  one  of  those  vigorous  understand- 
ings which  are  independent  of  external  aids.  In  his  solitude 
he  meditated  deeply  on  the  philosophy  of  trade,  and  thought 
out  by  degrees  a  complete  and  admirable  theory,  substantially 
the  same  with  that  which,  a  century  later,  was  expounded  by 
Adam  Smith.  After  an  exile  of  many  years,  Dudley  North 
returned  to  England  with  a  large  fortune,  and  commenced 
business  as  a  Turkey  merchant  in  the  City  of  London.  His 
profound  knowledge,  both  speculative  and  practical,  of  com- 
mercial matters,  and  the  perspicuity  and  liveliness  with  which 
he  explained  his  views,  speedily  introduced  him  to  the  notice 
of  statesmen.  The  government  found  in  him  at  once  an  en- 
lightened adviser  and  an  unscrupulous  slave.  For  with  his 
rare  mental  endowments  were  joined  lax  principles  and  an 
unfeeling  heart.  When  the  Tory  reaction  was  in  full  prog- 
ress, he  had  consented  to  be  made  sheriff  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  assisting  the  vengeance  of  the  court.  His  juries  had 
never  failed  to  find  verdicts  of  guilty ;  and,  on  a  day  of  judi- 
cial butchery,  carts,  loaded  with  the  legs  and  arms  of  quar- 
tered Whigs,  were,  to  the  great  discomposure  of  his  lady, 
driven  to  his  fine  house  in  Basinghall  Street  for  orders.  His 
services  had  been  rewarded  with  the  honor  of  knighthood, 
with  an  alderman's  gown,  and  with  the  office  of  Commis- 
sioner of  the  Customs.  He  had  been  brought  into  Parliament 
for  Banbury,  and,  though  a  new  member,  was  the  person  on 
whom  the  Lord  Treasurer  chiefly  relied  for  the  conduct  of 
financial  business  in  the  Lower  House.* 

Though  the  Commons  were  unanimous  in  their  resolution 
to  grant  a  further  supply  to  the  crown,  they  were  by  no  means 
agreed  as  to  the  sources  from  which  that  supply  should  be 
drawn.  It  was  speedily  determined  that  part  of  the  sum 
which  was  required  should  be  raised  by  laying  an  additional 


*  Roger  North's  Life  of  Sir  Dudley  North ;  Life  of  Lord  Guildford,  166 ;  Mr. 
M'Culloch's  Literature  of  Political  Economy. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  475 

impost,  for  a  term  of  eight  years,  on  wine  and  vinegar :  but 
something  more  than  this  was  needed.  Several  absurd  schemes 
were  suggested.  Many  country  gentlemen  were  disposed  to 
put  a  heavy  tax  on  all  new  buildings  in  the  capital.  Such  a 
tax,  it  was  hoped,  would  check  the  growth  of  a  city  which 
had  long  been  regarded  with  jealousy  and  aversion  by  the 
rural  aristocracy.  Dudley  North's  plan  was  that  additional 
duties  should  be  imposed,  for  a  term  of  eight  years,  on  sugar 
and  tobacco.  A  great  clamor  was  raised.  Colonial  merchants, 
grocers,  sugar  bakers  and  tobacconists,  petitioned  the  House 
and  besieged  the  public  offices.  The  people  of  Bristol,  who 
were  deeply  interested  in  the  trade  with  Virginia  and  Jamaica, 
sent  up  a  deputation  which  was  heard  at  the  bar  of  the  Com- 
mons. Rochester  was  for  a  moment  staggered ;  but  North's 
ready  wit  and  perfect  knowledge  of  trade  prevailed,  both  in  the 
Treasury  and  in  the  Parliament,  against  all  opposition.  The 
old  members  were  amazed  at  seeing  a  man  who  had  not  been  a 
fortnight  in  the  House,  and  whose  life  had  been  chiefly  passed 
in  foreign  countries,  assume  with  confidence,  and  discharge 
with  ability,  all  the  functions  of  a  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.* 

His  plan  was  adopted ;  and  thus  the  crown  was  in  posses- 
sion of  a  clear  income  of  about  nineteen  hundred  thousand 
pounds,  derived  from  England  alone.  Such  an  income  was 
then  more  than  sufficient  for  the  support  of  the  government 
in  time  of  peace.f 

The  Lords  had,  in  the  mean  time,  discussed  several  impor- 
tant questions.  The  Tory  party  had  always  been  strong  among 
proceedings  the  peers.  It  included  the  whole  bench  of  Bishops, 
of  the  Lords.  an(j  j)a(j  \)eeQ  re  _  enforced,  during  the  four  years 

which  had  elapsed  since  the  last  dissolution,  by  several  fresh 
creations.  Of  the  new  nobles,  the  most  conspicuous  were 
the  Lord  Treasurer  Rochester,  the  Lord  Keeper  Guildford, 
the  Chief-justice  Jeffreys,  the  Lord  Godolphin,  and  the  Lord 
Churchill,  who,  after  his  return  from  Versailles,  had  been 
made  a  baron  of  England. 

The  peers  early  took  into  consideration  the  case  of  four 

*  Life  of  Dudley  North,  176 ;  Lonsdale's  Memoirs ;  Van  Citters,  June  £f ,  1685. 
f  Commons'  Journals,  March  1, 1689. 


476  HISTORY    OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  IV. 

members  of  their  body  who  had  been  impeached  in  the  late 
reign,  but  had  never  been  brought  to  trial,  and  had,  after  a 
long  confinement,  been  admitted  to  bail  by  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench.  Three  of  the  noblemen  who  were  thus  under  recog- 
nizances were  Roman  Catholics.  The  fourth  was  a  Protes- 
tant of  great  note  and  influence,  the  Earl  of  Danby.  Since 
he  had  fallen  from  power  and  had  been  accused  of  treason  by 
the  Commons,  four  Parliaments  had  been  dissolved ;  but  he 
had  been  neither  acquitted  nor  condemned.  In  1679  the 
Lords  had  considered,  with  reference  to  his  situation,  the  ques- 
tion whether  an  impeachment  was  or  was  not  terminated  by 
a  dissolution.  They  had  resolved,  after  long  debate  and  full 
examination  of  precedents,  that  the  impeachment  was  still 
pending.  That  resolution  they  now  rescinded.  A  few  Whig 
nobles  protested  against  this  step,  but  to  little  purpose.  The 
Commons  silently  acquiesced  in  the  decision  of  the  Upper 
House.  Danby  again  took  his  seat  among  his  peers,  and 
became  an  active  and  powerful  member  of  the  Tory  party.* 

The  constitutional  question  on  which  the  Lords  thus,  in  the 
short  space  of  six  years,  pronounced  two  diametrically  op- 
posite decisions,  slept  during  more  than  a  century,  and  was 
at  length  revived  by  the  dissolution  which  took  place  during 
the  long  trial  of  Warren  Hastings.  It  was  then  necessary  to 
determine  whether  the  rule  laid  down  in  1679,  or  the  opposite 
rule  laid  down  in  1685,  was  to  be  accounted  the  law  of  the 
land.  The  point  was  long  debated  in  both  Houses ;  and  the 
best  legal  and  parliamentary  abilities  which  an  age  pre-emi- 
nently fertile  both  in  legal  and  in  parliamentary  ability  could 
supply  were  employed  in  the  discussion.  The  lawyers  were 
not  unequally  divided.  Thurlow,  Kenyon,  Scott,  and  Erskine 
maintained  that  the  dissolution  had  put  an  end  to  the  im- 
peachment. The  contrary  doctrine  was  held  by  Mansfield, 
Camden,  Loughborough,  and  Grant.  But  among  those  states- 
men who  grounded  their  arguments,  not  on  precedents  and 
technical  analogies,  but  on  deep  and  broad  constitutional  prin- 
ciples, there  was  little  difference  of  opinion.  Pitt  and  Gren- 
ville,  as  well  as  Burke  and  Fox,  held  that  the  impeachment 

*  Lords'  Journals,  March  18,  19,  1679;  May  22, 1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  477 

was  still  pending.  Both  Houses  by  great  majorities  set  aside 
the  decision  of  1685,  and  pronounced  the  decision  of  1679  to 
be  in  conformity  with  the  law  of  Parliament. 

Of  the  national  crimes  which  had  been  committed  during 

o 

the  panic  excited  by  the  fictions  of  Gates,  the  most  signal  had 
been  the  judicial  murder  of  Stafford.    The  sentence 

Bill  for  revers-  •> 

der  of  s?affil"d  *  unhappy  nobleman  was  now  regarded  by 

all  impartial  persons  as  unjust.  The  principal  wit- 
ness for  the  prosecution  had  been  convicted  of  a  series  of  foul 
perjuries.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  legislature,  in  such  circum- 
stances, to  do  justice  to  the  memory  of  a  guiltless  sufferer, 
and  to  efface  an  unmerited  stain  from  a  name  long  illustrious 
in  our  annals.  A  bill  for  reversing  the  attainder  of  Stafford 
was  passed  by  the  Upper  House,  in  spite  of  the  murmurs  of 
a  few  peers  who  were  unwilling  to  admit  that  they  had  shed 
innocent  blood.  The  Commons  read  the  bill  twice  without  a 
division,  and  ordered  it  to  be  committed.  But,  on  the  day 
appointed  for  the  committee,  arrived  news  that  a  formidable 
rebellion  had  broken  out  in  the  West  of  England.  It  was 
consequently  necessary  to  postpone  much  important  business. 
The  amends  due  to  the  memory  of  Stafford  were  deferred,  as 
was  supposed,  only  for  a  short  time.  But  the  misgovernment 
of  James  in  a  few  months  completely  turned  the  tide  of  pub- 
lic feeling.  During  several  generations  the  Roman  Catholics 
were  in  no  condition  to  demand  reparation  for  injustice,  and 
accounted  themselves  happy  if  they  wrere  permitted  to  live 
unmolested  in  obscurity  and  silence.  At  length,  in  the  reign 
of  King  George  the  Fourth,  more  than  a  hundred  and  forty 
years  after  the  day  on  which  the  blood  of  Stafford  was  shed 
on  Tower  Hill,  the  tardy  expiation  was  accomplished.  A  law 
annulling  the  attainder  and  restoring  the  injured  family  to 
its  ancient  dignities  was  presented  to  Parliament  by  the  min- 
isters of  the  crown,  was  eagerly  welcomed  by  public  men  of 
all  parties,  and  was  passed  without  one  dissentient  voice.* 

It  is  now  necessary  that  I  should  trace  the  origin  and  prog- 
ress of  that  rebellion  by  which  the  deliberations  of  the  Houses 
were  suddenly  interrupted. 

*  Stat.  5  Geo.  IV.,  c.  46. 


478  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 


CHAPTEK  V. 

TOWAED  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  some 
Whigs  who  had  been  deeply  implicated  in  the  plot 

Whig  refugees  .        ,  .  , 

onthecontt-    so  fatal  to  their  party,  and  who  knew  themselves 

nent 

to  be  marked  out  for  destruction,  had  sought  an 
asylum  in  the  Low  Countries. 

These  refugees  were  in  general  men  of  fiery  temper  and 
weak  judgment.  They  were  also  under  the  influence  of  that 
peculiar  illusion  which  seems  to  belong  to  their  situation.  A 
politician  driven  into  banishment  by  a  hostile  faction  gener- 
ally sees  the  society  which  he  had  quitted  through  a  false  me- 
dium. Every  object  is  distorted  and  discolored  by  his  regrets, 
his  longings,  and  his  resentments.  Every  little  discontent  ap- 
pears to  him  to  portend  a  revolution.  Every  riot  is  a  rebellion. 
He  cannot  be  convinced  that  his  country  does  not  pine  for  him 
as  much  as  he  pines  for  his  country.  He  imagines  that  all  his 
old  associates,  who  still  dwell  at  their  homes  and  enjoy  their 
estates,  are  tormented  by  the  same  feelings  which  make  life  a 
burden  to  himself.  The  longer  his  expatriation,  the  greater 
does  this  hallucination  become.  The  lapse  of  time,  which  cools 
the  ardor  of  the  friends  whom  he  has  left  behind,  inflames 
his.  Every  month  his  impatience  to  revisit  his  native  land 
increases;  and  every  month  his  native  land  remembers  and 
misses  him  less.  This  delusion  becomes  almost  a  madness 
when  many  exiles  who  suffer  in  the  same  cause  herd  together 
in  a  foreign  country.  Their  chief  employment  is  to  talk  of 
what  they  once  were,  and  of  what  they  may  yet  be,  to  goad 
each  other  into  animosity  against  the  common  enemy,  to  feed 
each  other  writh  extravagant  hopes  of  victory  and  revenge. 
Thus  they  become  ripe  for  enterprises  which  would  at  once 
be  pronounced  hopeless  by  any  man  whose  passions  had  not 
deprived  him  of  the  power  of  calculating  chances. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  479 

In  this  mood  were  many  of  the  outlaws  who  had  assembled 

on  the  Continent.     The  correspondence  which  they  kept  up 

with  England  was,  for  the  most  part,  such  as  tended 

Their  corre-  °  l         ' 

spondents  in     to  excite  their  feelings  and  to  mislead  their  iudg:- 

Englancl.  °  Jo 

ment.  Their  information  concerning  the  temper 
of  the  public  mind  was  chiefly  derived  from  the  worst  mem- 
bers of  the  Whig  party,  from  men  who  were  plotters  and  li- 
bellers by  profession,  who  were  pursued  by  the  officers  of  jus- 
tice, who  were  forced  to  skulk  in  disguise  through  back  streets, 
and  who  sometimes  lay  hid  for  weeks  together  in  cocklofts 
and  cellars.  The  statesmen  who  had  formerly  been  the  orna- 
ments of  the  Country  party,  the  statesmen  who  afterward 
guided  the  councils  of  the  Convention,  would  have  given  ad- 
vice very  different  from  that  which  was  given  by  such  men  as 
John  Wildman  and  Henry  Danvers. 

Wildman  had  served  forty  years  before  in  the  parliamentary 
army,  but  had  been  more  distinguished  there  as  an  agitator 
than  as  a  soldier,  and  had  early  quitted  the  profession  of  arms 
for  pursuits  better  suited  to  his  temper.  His  hatred  of  mon- 
archy had  induced  him  to  engage  in  a  long  series  of  conspira- 
cies, first  against  the  Protector,  and  then  against  the  Stuarts. 
But  with  Wildman's  fanaticism  was  joined  a  tender  care  for 
his  own  safety.  He  had  a  wonderful  skill  in  grazing  the  edge 
of  treason.  No  man  understood  better  how  to  instigate  others 
to  desperate  enterprises  by  words  which,  when  repeated  to  a 
jury,  might  seem  innocent,  or,  at  worst,  ambiguous.  Such  was 
his  cunning  that,  though  always  known  to  be  plotting,  and 
though  long  malignantly  watched  by  a  vindictive  government, 
he  eluded  every  danger,  and  died  in  his  bed,  after  having  seen 
two  generations  of  his  accomplices  die  on  the  gallows.*  Dan- 
vers was  a  man  of  the  same  class,  hot-headed,  but  faint-hearted, 
constantly  urged  to  the  brink  of  danger  by  enthusiasm,  and 
constantly  stopped  on  that  brink  by  cowardice.  He  had  con- 
siderable influence  among  a  portion  of  the  Baptists,  had  writ- 
ten largely  in  defence  of  their  peculiar  opinions,  and  had 

*  Clarendon's  History  of  the  Rebellion,  Book  XIV. ;  Burnet's  Own  Times,  i.,  546, 
625;  Wade's  and  Ireton's  Narratives,  Lansdowne  MS.,  1152;  West's  information 
in  the  Appendix  to  Sprat's  True  Account. 


480  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

drawn  down  on  himself  the  severe  censure  of  the  most  re- 
spectable Puritans  by  attempting  to  palliate  the  crimes  of 
Matthias  and  John  of  Leyden.  It  is  probable  that,  had  he 
possessed  a  little  courage,  he  would  have  trodden  in  the  foot- 
steps of  the  wretches  whom  he  defended.  He  was,  at  this 
time,  concealing  himself  from  the  officers  of  justice ;  for  war- 
rants were  out  against  him  on  account  of  a  grossly  calumnious 
paper  of  which  the  government  had  discovered  him  to  be  the 
author.* 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  what  kind  of  intelligence  and  counsel 
men,  such  as  have  been  described,  were  likely  to 

Characters  of  '  J 

the  leading      send  to  the  outlaws  in  the  Netherlands.     Of  the 

refugees. 

general  character  of  those  outlaws  an  estimate  may 
be  formed  from  a  few  samples. 

One  of  the  most  conspicuous  among  them  was  John 
Ayloffe,  a  lawyer  connected  by  affinity  with  the  Hydes,  and, 
A  ioffe  through  the  Hydes,  with  James.  Ayloffe  had  early 

made  himself  remarkable  by  offering  a  whimsical 
insult  to  the  government.  At  a  time  when  the  ascendency 
of  the  court  of  Versailles  had  excited  general  uneasiness,  he 
had  contrived  to  put  a  wooden  shoe,  the  established  type, 
among  the  English,  of  French  tyranny,  into  the  chair  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  He  had  subsequently  been  concerned 
in  the  Whig  plot ;  but  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  he 
was  -a  party  to  the  design  of  assassinating  the  royal  brothers. 
He  was  a  man  of  parts  and  courage ;  but  his  moral  character 
did  not  stand  high.  The  Puritan  divines  whispered  that  he 
was  a  careless  Gallio  or  something  worse,  and  that,  whatever 
zeal  he  might  profess  for  civil  liberty,  the  Saints  would  do 
well  to  avoid  all  connection  with  him.f 

Nathaniel  Wade  was,  like  Ayloffe,  a  lawyer.     He  had  long 

*  London  Gazette,  January  4, 168| ;  Ferguson  MS.  in  Eachard's  History,  iii.,  764 ; 
Grey's  Narrative ;  Sprat's  True  Account ;  Danvers's  Treatise  on  Baptism ;  Dan- 
vers's  Innocency  and  Truth  Vindicated :  Crosby's  History  of  the  English  Baptists. 

f  Sprat's  True  Account ;  Burnet,  i.,  634  ;  Wade's  Confession,  Harl.  MS..  6845. 

Lord  Howard  of  Escrick  accused  Avloffe  of  proposing  to  assassinate  the  Duke 
of  York  ;  but  Lord  Howard  was  an  abject  liar ;  and  this  story  was  not  part  of  his 
original  confession,  but  was  added  afterward  by  way  of  supplement,  and  therefore 
deserves  no,  credit  whatever. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  481 

resided  at  Bristol,  and  had  been  celebrated  in  liis  own  neigh- 
borhood as  a  vehement  republican.     At  one  time 

Wade. 

he  had  formed  a  project  of  emigrating  to  New- 
Jersey,  where  he  expected  to  lind  institutions  better  suited  to 
liis  taste  than  those  of  England.  His  activity  in  electioneer- 
ing had  introduced  him  to  the  notice  of  some  Whig  nobles. 
They  had  employed  him  professionally,  and  had,  at  length, 
admitted  him  to  their  most  secret  counsels.  He  had  been 
deeply  concerned  in  the  scheme  of  insurrection,  and  had  un- 
dertaken to  head  a  rising  in  his  own  city.  lie  had  also  been 
privy  to  the  more  odious  plot  against  the  lives  of  Charles  and 
James.  But  he  always  declared  that,  though  privy  to  it,  he 
had  abhorred  it,  and  had  attempted  to  dissuade  his  associates 
from  carrying  their  design  into  effect.  For  a  man  bred  to 
civil  pursuits,  Wade  seems  to  have  had,  in  an  unusual  degree, 
that  sort  of  ability  and  that  sort  of  nerve  which  make  a  good 
soldier.  Unhappily  his  principles  and  his  courage  proved  to 
be  not  of  sufficient  force  to  support  him  when  the  tight  was 
over,  and  when,  in  a  prison,  he  had  to  choose  between  death 
and  infamy.* 

Another  fugitive  was  Richard  Goodenough,  who  had  for- 
merly been  Under  Sheriff  of  London.  On  this  man  his  party 
had  long  relied  for  services  of  no  honorable  kind, 
and  especially  for  the  selection  of  jurymen  not  like- 
ly to  be  troubled  with  scruples  in  political  cases.  He  had 
been  deeply  concerned  in  those  dark  and  atrocious  parts  of  the 
Whig  plot  which  had  been  carefully  concealed  from  the  most 
respectable  Whigs.  Nor  is  it  possible  to  plead,  in  extenua- 
tion of  his  guilt,  that  he  was  misled  by  inordinate  zeal  for  the 
public  good.  For  it  will  be  seen  that,  after  having  disgraced 
a  noble  cause  by  his  crimes,  he  betrayed  it  ii:  order  to  escape 
from  his  well-merited  punishment,  f 

Very  different  was  the  character  of  Richard  Rumbold. 
He  had  held  a  commission  in  Cromwell's  own  regiment,  had 

*  Wade's  Confession,  Harl.  MS.,  6845;  Lansdowne  MS.,  1152;  Holloway's  Nar- 
rative in  the  Appendix  to  Sprat's  True  Account.  Wade  owned  that  Holloway  had 
told  nothing  but  truth. 

f  Sprat's  True  Account  and  Appendix,  passim. 

I.— 31 


4:82  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

guarded  the  scaffold  before  the  Banqueting-! louse  on  the  day 
of  the  great  execution,  had  fought  at  Dunbar  and 

Rumbold.  ,_ 

Worcester,  and  had  always  shown  in  the  highest 
degree  the  qualities  which  distinguished  the  invincible  army 
in  which  he  served,  courage  of  the  truest  temper,  fiery  enthu- 
siasm, both  political  and  religious,  and  with  that  enthusiasm, 
all  the  power  of  self-government  which  is  characteristic  of 
men  trained  in  well -disciplined  camps  to  command  and  to 
obey.  When  the  republican  troops  were  disbanded,  Rumbold 
became  a  maltster,  and  carried  on  his  trade  near  Hoddesdon, 
in  that  building  from  which  the  Rye-house  Plot  derives  its 
name.  It  had  been  suggested,  though  not  absolutely  deter- 
mined, in  the  conferences  of  the  most  violent  and  unscrupu- 
lous of  the  malcontents,  that  armed  men  should  be  stationed 
in  the  Rye  House  to  attack  the  Guards  who  were  to  escort 
Charles  and  James  from  Newmarket  to  London.  In  these 
conferences  Rumbold  had  borne  a  part  from  which  he  would 
have  shrunk  with  horror,  if  his  clear  understanding  had  not 
been  overclouded,  and  his  manly  heart  corrupted,  by  party- 
spirit.* 

A  more  important  exile  was  Ford  Grey,  Lord  Grey  of 

Wark.     He  had  been  a  zealous  Exclusionist,  had  concurred  in 

the  design  of  insurrection,  and  had  been  commit- 

Lord  Grey.  im  t          it  • 

ted  to  the  lower,  but  had  succeeded  in  making  his 
keepers  drunk,  and  in  effecting  his  escape  to  the  Continent. 
His  parliamentary  abilities  were  great,  and  his  manners  pleas- 
ing :  but  his  life  had  been  sullied  by  a  great  domestic  crime. 
His  wife  was  a  daughter  of  the  noble  house  of  Berkeley. 
Her  sister,  the  Lad}r  Henrietta  Berkeley,  was  allowed  to  asso- 
ciate and  correspond  with  him  as  with  a  brother  by  blood. 
A  fatal  attachment  sprang  up.  The  high  spirits  and  strong 
passions  of  Lady  Henrietta  broke  through  all  restraints  of  vir- 
tue and  decorum.  A  scandalous  elopement  disclosed  to  the 
whole  kingdom  the  shame  of  two  illustrious  families.  Grey 
and  some  of  the  agents  who  had  served  him  in  his  amour 

*  Sprat's  True  Account  and  Appendix ;  Proceedings  against  Rumbold  in  the 
Collection  of  State  Trials ;  Burnet's  Own  Times,  i.,  633 ;  Appendix  to  Fox's  His- 
tory, No.  IV. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  483 

were  brought  to  trial  on  a  charge  of  conspiracy.  A  scene 
unparalleled  in  our  legal  history  was  exhibited  in  the  Court 
of  King's  Bench.  The  seducer  appeared  with  dauntless  front, 
accompanied  by  his  paramour.  Nor  did  the  great  "Whig  lords 
flinch  from  their  friend's  side  even  in  that  extremity.  Those 
whom  he  had  wronged  stood  over  against  him,  and  were 
moved  to  transports  of  rage  by  the  sight  of  him.  The  old 
Earl  of  Berkeley  poured  forth  reproaches  and  curses  on  the 
wretched  Henrietta.  The  Countess  gave  evidence  broken  by 
many  sobs,  and  at  length  fell  down  in  a  swoon.  The  jury 
found  a  verdict  of  guilty.  When  the  court  rose,  Lord  Berke- 
ley called  on  all  his  friends  to  help  him  to  seize  his  daughter. 
The  partisans  of  Grey  rallied  round  her.  Swords  were  drawn 
on  both  sides :  a  skirmish  took  place  in  Westminster  Hall ; 
and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  the  judges  and  tipstaves  parted 
the  combatants.  In  our  time  such  a  trial  would  be  fatal  to 
the  character  of  a  public  man ;  but  in  that  age  the  standard 
of  morality  among  the  great  was  so  low,  and  party  spirit  was 
so  violent,  that  Grey  still  continued  to  have  considerable  influ- 
ence, though  the  Puritans,  who  formed  a  strong  section  of  the 
Whig  party,  looked  somewhat  coldly  on  him.* 

One  part  of  the  character,  or  rather,  it  may  be,  of  the  for- 
tune, of  Grey  deserves  notice.  It  was  admitted  that  every- 
where, except  on  the  field  of  battle,  he  showed  a  high  degree 
of  courage.  More  than  once,  in  embarrassing  circumstances, 
when  his  life  and  liberty  were  at  stake,  the  dignity  of  his  de- 
portment and  his  perfect  command  of  all  his  faculties  extorted 
praise  from  those  who  neither  loved  nor  esteemed  him.  But 
as  a  soldier  he  incurred,  less  perhaps  by  his  fault  than  by 
mischance,  the  degrading  imputation  of  personal  cowardice. 

In  this  respect  he  differed  widely  from  his  friend  the  Duke 
of  Mon mouth.     Ardent  and  intrepid  on  the  field  of  battle, 
Monmouth  was  everywhere  else  effeminate  and  ir- 
resolute.    The  accident  of  his  birth,  his  personal 
courage,  and  his  superficial  graces,  had  placed  him  in  a  post 


*  Grey's  Narrative;  his  trial  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials;  Sprat's  True 
Account. 


484  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  V. 

for  which  he  was  altogether  unfitted.  After  witnessing  the 
ruin  of  the  party  of  which  lie  had  been  the  nominal  head,  lie 
had  retired  to  Holland.  The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Orange 
had  now  ceased  to  regard  him  as  a  rival.  They  received  him 
most  hospitably ;  for  they  hoped  that,  by  treating  him  with 
kindness,  they  should  establish  a  claim  to  the  gratitude  of  his 
father.  They  knew  that  paternal  affection  was  not  yet  wea- 
ried out,  that  letters  and  supplies  of  money  still  came  secret- 
ly from  Whitehall  to  Monmouth's  retreat,  and  that  Charles 
frowned  on  those  who  sought  to  pay  their  court  to  him  by 
speaking  ill  of  his  banished  son.  The  Duke  had  been  encour- 
aged to  expect  that,  in  a  very  short  time,  if  he  gave  no  new 
cause  of  displeasure,  he  would  be  recalled  to  his  native  land, 
and  restored  to  all  his  high  honors  and  commands.  Animated 
by  such  expectations, 'he  had  been  the  life  of  the  Hague  dur- 
ing the  late  winter.  He  had  been  the  most  conspicuous  figure 
at  a  succession  of  balls  in  that  splendid  Orange  Hall,  which 
blazes  on  every  side  with  the  most  ostentatious  coloring  of 
Jordaens  and  Hondthorst.*  He  had  taught  the  English  coun- 
try-dance to  the  Dutch  ladies,  and  had  in  his  turn  learned 
from  them  to  skate  on  the  canals.  The  Princess  had  accom- 
panied him  in  his  expeditions  on  the  ice ;  and  the  figure 
which  she  made  there,  poised  on  one  leg,  and  clad  in  petticoats 
shorter  than  are  generally  worn  by  ladies  so  strictly  decorous, 
had  caused  some  wonder  and  mirth  to  the  foreign  ministers. 
The  sullen  gravity  which  had  been  characteristic  of  the  Stadt- 
holder's  court  seemed  to  have  vanished  before  the  influence 
of  the  fascinating  Englishman.  Even  the  stern  and  pensive 
William  relaxed  into  good -humor  when  his  brilliant  guest 
appeared.f 

Monmouth  meanwhile  carefully  avoided  all  that  could  give 
offence  in  the  quarter  to  which  he  looked  for  protection.  He 
saw  little  of  any  Whigs,  and  nothing  of  those  violent  men 
who  had  been  concerned  in  the  worst  part  of  the  Whig  plot. 

*  In  the  Pepysian  Collection  is  a  print  representing  one  of  the  balls  which  about 
this  time  William  and  Mary  gave  in  the  Oranje  Zaal. 

f  Avaux  Neg.,  January  25, 1685.  Letter  from  James  to  the  Princess  of  Orange 
dated  January  168f,  among  Birch's  Extracts  in  the  British  Museum. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  485 

He  was  therefore  loudly  accused,  by  his  old  associates,  of 
fickleness  and  ingratitude.* 

By  none  of  the  exiles  was  this  accusation  urged  with  more 
vehemence  and  bitterness  than  by  Robert  Ferguson,  the  Judas 
of  Dryden's  great  satire.  Ferguson  was  by  birth 
a  Scot;  but  England  had  long  been  his  residence. 
At  the  time  of  the  Restoration,  indeed,  he  had  held  a  living 
in  Kent.  He  had  been  bred  a  Presbyterian  ;  but  the  Presby- 
terians had  cast  him  out,  and  he  had  become  an  Independent. 
He  had  been  master  of  an  academy  which  the  Dissenters  had 
set  up  at  Islington  as  a  rival  to  Westminster  School  and  the 
Charter  House ;  and  he  had  preached  to  large  congregations 
at  a  meeting-house  in  Moorfields.  He  had  also  published 
some  theological  treatises  which  may  still  be  found  in  the 
dusty  recesses  of  a  few  old  libraries;  but,  though  texts  of 
Scripture  were  always  on  his  lips,  those  who  had  pecuniary 
transactions  with  him  soon  found  him  to  be  a  mere  swindler. 

At  length  he  turned  his  attention  almost  entirely  from  the- 
ology to  the  worst  part  of  politics.  He  belonged  to  the  class 
whose  office  it  is  to  render  in  troubled  times  to  exasperated 
parties  those  services  from  which  honest  men  shrink  in  dis- 
gust and  prudent  men  in  fear,  the  class  of  fanatical  knaves. 
Violent,  malignant,  regardless  of  truth,  insensible  to  shame, 
insatiable  of  notoriety,  delighting  in  intrigue,  in  tumult,  in 
mischief  for  its  own  sake,  he  toiled  during  many  years  in  the 
darkest  mines  of  faction.  He  lived  among  libellers  and  false 
witnesses.  He  was  the  keeper  of  a  secret  purse  from  which 
agents  too  vile  to  be  acknowledged  received  hire,  and  the 
director  of  a  secret  press  whence  pamphlets,  bearing  no  name, 
were  daily  issued.  He  boasted  that  he  had  contrived  to  scat- 
ter lampoons  about  the  terrace  of  Windsor,  and  even  to  lay 
them  under  the  royal  pillow.  In  this  way  of  life  he  was  put 
to  many  shifts,  was  forced  to  assume  many  names,  and  at  one 
time  had  four  different  lodgings  in  different  corners  of  Lon- 
don. He  was  deeply  engaged  in  the  Rye-house  Plot.  There 
is,  indeed,  reason  to  believe  that  he  was  the  original  author  of 

*  Grey's  Narrative;  Wade's  Confession,  Lansdowue  MS.,  1152. 


4:86  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

those  sanguinary  schemes  which  brought  so  much  discredit 
on  the  whole  Whig  party.  When  the  conspiracy  was  detected 
and  his  associates  were  in  dismay,  he  bade  them  farewell  with 
a  laugh,  and  told  them  that  they  were  novices,  that  he  had 
been  used  to  flight,  concealment,  and  disguise,  and  that  he 
should  never  leave  off  plotting  while  he  lived.  He  escaped 
to  the  Continent.  But  it  seemed  that  even  on  the  Continent 
he  wTas  not  secure.  The  English  envoys  at  foreign  courts 
were  directed  to  be  on  the  watch  for  him.  The  French  gov- 
ernment offered  a  reward  of  five  hundred  pistoles  to  any  who 
would  seize  him.  Nor  was  it  easy  for  him  to  escape  notice ; 
for  his  broad  Scotch  accent,  his  tall  and  lean  figure,  his  lan- 
tern jaws,  the  gleam  of  his  sharp  eyes,  which  were  always 
overhung  by  his  wig,  his  cheeks  inflamed  by  an  eruption,  his 
shoulders  deformed  by  a  stoop,  and  his  gait  distinguished  from 
that  of  other  men  by  a  peculiar  shuffle,  made  him  remarkable 
wherever  he  appeared.  But  though  he  was,  as  it  seemed,  pur- 
sued with  peculiar  animosity,  it  wras  whispered  that  this  ani- 
mosity was  feigned,  and  that  the  officers  of  justice  had  secret 
orders  not  to  see  him.  That  he  was  really  a  bitter  malcon- 
tent can  scarcely  be  doubted.  But  there  is  strong  reason  to 
believe  that  he  provided  for  his  own  safety  by  pretending  at 
Whitehall  to  be  a  spy  on  the  Whigs,  and  by  furnishing  the 
government  with  just  so  much  information  as  sufficed  to  keep 
up  his  credit.  This  hypothesis  furnishes  a  simple  explana- 
tion of  what  seemed  to  his  associates  to  be  his  unnatural  reck- 
lessness and  audacity.  Being  himself  out  of  danger,  he  al- 
ways gave  his  vote  for  the  most  violent  and  perilous  course, 
and  sneered  very  complacently  at  the  pusillanimity  of  men 
who,  not  having  taken  the  infamous  precautions  on  which  he 
relied,  were  disposed  to  think  twice  before  they  placed  life, 
and  objects  dearer  than  life,  on  a  single  hazard.* 

As  soon  as  he  was  in  the  Low  Countries  he  began  to  form 
new  projects  against  the  English  government,  and  found 
among  his  fellow  -  emigrants  men  ready  to  listen  to  his  evil 

*  Burnet,  i.,  542 ;  Wood,  Ath.  Ox.  under  the  name  of  Owen ;  Absalom  and 
Achitophel,  Part  II. ;  Eaehard,  Hi.,  682,  697 ;  Sprat's  True  Account,  passim  ;  Lond. 
Gaz.,  Aug.  6, 1683  ;  Non-conformist's  Memorial;  North's  Examen,  399. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  487 

counsels.  Monmouth,  however,  stood  obstinately  aloof  ;  and, 
without  the  help  of  Monmouth's  immense  popularity,  it  was 
impossible  to  effect  anything.  Yet  such  was  the  impatience 
and  rashness  of  the  exiles  that  they  tried  to  find  another 
leader.  They  sent  an  embassy  to  that  solitary  retreat  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Leman  where  Edmund  Ludlow,  once  conspicu- 
ous among  the  chiefs  of  the  parliamentary  army  and  among 
the  members  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice,  had,  during  many 
years,  hidden  himself  from  the  vengeance  of  the  restored 
Stuarts.  The  stern  old  regicide,  however,  refused  to  quit  his 
hermitage.  His  work,  he  said,  was  done.  If  England  was 
still  to  be  saved,  she  must  be  saved  by  younger  men.* 

The  unexpected  demise  of  the  crown  changed  the  whole  as- 
pect of  affairs.  Any  hope  which  the  proscribed  Whigs  might 
have  cherished  of  returning  peaceably  to  their  native  land  was 
extinguished  by  the  death  of  a  careless  and  good-natured 
prince,  and  by  the  accession  of  a  prince  obstinate  in  all  things, 
and  especially  obstinate  in  revenge.  Ferguson  was  in  his 
element.  Destitute  of  the  talents  both  of  a  writer  and  of  a 
statesman,  he  had  in  a  high  degree  the  unenviable  qualifica- 
tions of  a  tempter ;  and  now,  with  the  malevolent  activity 
and  dexterity  of  an  evil  spirit,  he  ran  from  outlaw  to  outlaw, 
chattered  in  every  ear,  and  stirred  up  in  every  bosom  savage 
animosities  and  wild  desires. 

He  no  longer  despaired  of  being  able  to  seduce  Monmouth. 
The  situation  of  that  unhappy  young  man  was  completely 
changed.  While  he  was  dancing  and  skating  at  the  Hague, 
and  expecting  every  day  a  summons  to  London,  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  misery  by  the  tidings  of  his  father's  death  and 
of  his  uncle's  accession.  During  the  night  which  followed 
the  arrival  of  the  news,  those  who  lodged  near  him  could  dis- 
tinctly hear  his  sobs,  and  his  piercing  cries.  He  quitted  the 
Hague  the  next  day,  having  solemnly  pledged  his  word,  both 
to  the  Prince  and  to  the  Princess  of  Orange,  not  to  attempt 
anything  against  the  government  of  England,  and  having  been 
supplied  by  them  with  money  to  meet  immediate  demands,  f 

*  Wade's  Confession,  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 

f  Avaux  Neg.,  Feb.  20,  22,  1685  ;  Monmouth's  letter  to  James  from  Ringwood. 


488  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

The  prospect  which  lay  before  Monmouth  was  not  a  bright 
one.  There  was  now  no  probability  that  he  would  be  re- 
called from  banishment.  On  the  Continent  his  life  could  no 
longer  be  passed  amidst  the  splendor  and  festivity  of  a  court. 
His  cousins  at  the  Hague  seem  to  have  really  regarded  him 
with  kindness;  but  they  could  no  longer  countenance  him 
openly  without  serious  risk  of  producing  a  rupture  between 
England  and  Holland.  William  offered  a  kind  and  judicious 
suggestion.  The  war  which  was  then  raging  in  Hungary,  be- 
tween the  Emperor  and  the  Turks,  was  watched  by  all  Europe 
with  interest  almost  as  great  as  that  which  the  Crusaders  had 
excited  five  hundred  years  earlier.  Many  gallant  gentlemen, 
both  Protestant  and  Catholic,  were  lighting  as  volunteers  in 
the  common  cause  of  Christendom.  The  Prince  advised  Mon- 
mouth to  repair  to  the  Imperial  camp,  and  assured  him  that, 
if  he  would  do  so,  he  should  not  want  the  means  of  making 
an  appearance  befitting  an  English  nobleman.*  This  counsel 
was  excellent :  but  the  Duke  could  not  make  up  his  mind. 
He  retired  to  Brussels  accompanied  by  Henrietta  Went  worth, 
Baroness  Wentworth  of  Nettlestede,  a  damsel  of  high  rank 
and  ample  fortune,  who  loved  him  passionately,  who  had  sac- 
rificed for  his  sake  her  maiden  honor  and  the  hope  of  a  splen- 
did alliance,  who  had  followed  him  into  exile,  and  whom  he 
believed  to  be  his  wife  in  the  sight  of  heaven.  Under  the 
soothing  influence  of  female  friendship,  his  lacerated  mind 
healed  fast.  He  seemed  to  have  found  happiness  in  obscu- 
rity and  repose,  and  to  have  forgotten  that  he  had  been  the 
ornament  of  a  splendid  court  and  the  head  of  a  great  party, 
that  he  had  commanded  armies,  and  that  he  had  aspired  to 
a  throne. 

But  he  was  not  suffered  to  remain  quiet.  Ferguson  em- 
ployed all  his  powers  of  temptation.  Grey,  who  knew  not 
where  to  turn  for  a  pistole,  and  was  ready  for  any  undertak- 
ing, however  desperate,  lent  his  aid.  No  art  was  spared  which 
could  draw  Monmouth  from  retreat.  To  the  first  invitations 
which  he  received  from  his  old  associates  he  returned  unfavor- 

*  Boyer's  History  of  King  William  the  Third,  2d  edition,  1703,  Vol.  i.,  160. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  489 

able  answers.  He  pronounced  the  difficulties  of  a  descent  on 
England  insuperable,  protested  that  he  was  sick  of  public  life, 
and  begged  to  be  left  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  newly  found 
happiness.  But  he  was  little  in  the  habit  of  resisting  skil- 
ful and  urgent  importunity.  It  is  said,  too,  that  he  was  in- 
duced to  quit  his  retirement  by  the  same  powerful  influence 
which  had  made  that  retirement  delightful.  Lady  Wentworth 
wished  to  see  him  a  King.  Her  rents,  her  diamonds,  her 
credit  were  put  at  his  disposal.  Monmouth's  judgment  was 
not  convinced ;  but  he  had  not  firmness  to  resist  such  solici- 
tations.* 

By  the  English  exiles  he  was  joyfully  welcomed,  and  unan- 
imously acknowledged  as  their  head.  But  there  was  another 
scotch  refu-  class  of  emigrants  who  wrere  not  disposed  to  recog- 
nize his  supremacy.  Misgovernrnent,  such  as  had 
never  been  known  in  the  southern  part  of  our  island,  had 
driven  from  Scotland  to  the  Continent  many  fugitives,  the 
intemperance  of  whose  political  and  religious  zeal  wasvpropor- 
tioned  to  the  oppression  which  they  had  undergone.  These 
men  were  not  willing  to  follow  an  English  leader.  Even  in 
destitution  and  exile  they  retained  their  punctilious  national 
pride,  and  would  not  consent  that  their  country  should  be,  in 
their  persons,  degraded  into  a  province.  They  had  a  captain 
of  their  own,  Archibald,  ninth  Earl  of  Argyle,  who, 
as  chief  of  the  great  tribe  of  Campbell,  was  known 
among  the  population  of  the  Highlands  by  the  proud  name 
of  MacCallum  More.  His  father,  the  Marquess  of  Argyle, 
had  been  the  head  of  the  Scotch  Covenanters,  had  greatly  con- 
tributed to  the  ruin  of  Charles  the  First,  and  was  not  thought 
by  the  Royalists  to  have  atoned  for  this  offence  by  consenting 

*  Welwood's  Memoirs,  App.  XV. ;  Burnet,  i.,  630.     Grey  told  a  somewhat  dif- 
ferent story ;  but  he  told  it  to  save  his  life.     The  Spanish  ambassador  at  the  Eng- 
lish court,  Don  Pedro  de  Ronquillo,  in  a  letter  to  the  governor  of  the  Low  Coun- 
tries written  about  this  time,  sneers  at  Monmouth  for  living  on  the  bounty  of  a 
fond  woman,  and  hints  a  very  unfounded  suspicion  that  the  Duke's  passion  was 
altogether  interested.     "  Hallandose  hoy  tan  falto  de  medios  que  ha  menester  tras- 
formarse  en  Amor  con  Miledi  en  vista  de  la  necesidad  de  poder  subsistir." — Ron- 

•  11      i      n  March  30,    T,.,— 

quillo  to  Grana,   A  ril  9    IGSo. 


490  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

to  bestow  the  empty  title  of  King,  and  a  state  prison  in  a  pal- 
ace, on  Charles  the  Second.  After  the  return  of  the  royal 
family  the  Marquess  was  put  to  death.  His  marquisate  be- 
came extinct ;  but  his  son  was  permitted  to  inherit  the  ancient 
earldom,  and  was  still  among  the  greatest,  if  not  the  greatest, 
of  the  nobles  of  Scotland.  The  Earl's  conduct  during  the 
twenty  years  which  followed  the  Restoration  had  been,  as  he 
afterward  thought,  criminally  moderate.  He  had,  on  some 
occasions,  opposed  the  administration  which  afflicted  his  coun- 
try :  but  his  opposition  had  been  languid  and  cautions.  His 
compliances  in  ecclesiastical  matters  had  given  scandal  to  rigid 
Presbyterians ;  and  so  far  had  he  been  from  showing  any  in- 
clination to  resistance  that,  when  the  Covenanters  had  been 
persecuted  into  insurrection,  he  had  brought  into  the  field  a 
large  body  of  his  dependents  to  support  the  government. 

Such  had  been  his  political  course  until  the  Duke  of  York 
came  down  to  Edinburgh  armed  with  the  whole  regal  author- 
ity. The  despotic  viceroy  soon  found  that  he  could  not  ex- 
pect entire  support  from  Argyle.  Since  the  most  powerful 
chief  in  the  kingdom  could  not  be  gained,  it  was  thought  nec- 
essary that  he  should  be  destroyed.  On  grounds  so  frivolous 
that  even  the  spirit  of  party  and  the  spirit  of  chicane  were 
ashamed  of  them,  he  was  brought  to  trial  for  treason,  con- 
victed, and  sentenced  to  death.  The  partisans  of  the  Stuarts 
afterward  asserted  that  it  was  never  meant  to  carry  this  sen- 
tence into  effect,  and  that  the  only  object  of  the  prosecution 
was  to  frighten  him  into  ceding  his  extensive  jurisdiction  in 
the  Highlands.  Whether  James  designed,  as  his  enemies 
suspected,  to  commit  murder,  or  only,  as  his  friends  affirmed, 
to  commit  extortion  by  threatening  to  commit  murder,  cannot 
now  be  ascertained.  "  I  know  nothing  of  the  Scotch  law," 
said  Halifax  to  King  Charles ;  "  but  this  I  know,  that  we 
should  not  hang  a  dog  here  on  the  grounds  on  which  my 
Lord  Argyle  has  been  sentenced."* 

*  Proceedings  against  Argyle  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials;  Burnet,  i.,  521 ; 
A  true  and  plain  Account  of  the  Discoveries  made  in  Scotland,  1684 ;  The  Scotch 
Mist  Cleared;  Sir  George  Mackenzie's  Vindication;  Lord  Fountainhall's  Chrono- 
logical Notes. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  491 

Argyle  escaped  in  disguise  to  England,  and  thence  passed 
over  to  Friesland.  In  that  secluded  province  his  father  had 
bought  a  small  estate,  as  a  place  of  refuge  for  the  family  in 
civil  troubles.  It  was  said,  among  the  Scots,  that  this  pur- 
chase had  been  made  in  consequence  of  the  predictions  of  a 
Celtic  seer,  to  whom  it  had  been  revealed  that  MacCallum 
More  would  one  day  be  driven  forth  from  the  ancient  mansion 
of  his  race  at  Inverary.*  But  it  is  probable  that  the  politic 
Marquess  had  been  warned  rather  by  the  signs  of  the  times 
than  by  the  visions  of  any  prophet.  In  Friesland  Earl  Archi- 
bald resided  during  some  time  so  quietly  that  it  was  not  gen- 
erally known  whither  he  had  fled.  From  his  retreat  he  car- 
ried on  a  correspondence  with  his  friends  in  Great  Britain, 
was  a  party  to  the  Whig  conspiracy,  and  concerted  with  the 
chiefs  of  that  conspiracy  a  plan  for  invading  Scotland.f  This 
plan  had  been  dropped  upon  the  detection  of  the  Rye-house 
Plot,  but  became  again  the  subject  of  his  thoughts  after  the 
demise  of  the  crown. 

He  had,  during  his  residence  on  the  Continent,  reflected 
much  more  deeply  on  religious  questions  than  in  the  preceding 
years  of  his  life.  In  one  respect  the  effect  of  these  reflec- 
tions on  his  mind  had  been  pernicious.  His  partiality  for  the 
synodical  form  of  church  government  now  amounted  to  big- 
otry. When  he  remembered  how  long  he  had  conformed 
to  the  established  worship,  he  was  overwhelmed  with  shame 
and  remorse,  and  showed  too  many  signs  of  a  disposition  to 
atone  for  his  defection  by  violence  and  intolerance.  He  had 
however,  in  no  long  time,  an  opportunity  of  proving  that 
the  fear  and  love  of  a  higher  Power  had  nerved  him  for 
the  most  formidable  conflicts  by  which  human  nature  can 
be  tried. 

To  his  companions  in  adversity  his  assistance  was  of  the 
highest  moment.  Though  proscribed  and  a  fugitive,  he  was 
still,  in  some  sense,  the  most  powerful  subject  in  the  British 
dominions.  In  wealth,  even  before  his  attainder,  he  was  prob- 


*  Information  of  Robert  Smith  in  the  Appendix  to  Sprat's  True  Account. 
\  True  and  plain  Account  of  the  Discoveries  made  in  Scotland. 


492  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

ably  inferior,  not  only  to  the  great  English  nobles,  but  to  some 
of  the  opulent  esquires  of  Kent  and  Norfolk.  But  his  patri- 
archal authority,  an  authority  which  no  wealth  could  give  and 
which  no  attainder  could  take  away,  made  him,  as  a  leader 
of  an  insurrection,  truly  formidable.  No  southern  lord  could 
feel  any  confidence  that,  if  he  ventured  to  resist  the  govern- 
ment, even  his  own  game-keepers  and  huntsmen  would  stand 
by  him.  An  Earl  of  Bedford,  an  Earl  of  Devonshire,  could 
not  engage  to  bring  ten  men  into  the  field.  MacCallum 
More,  penniless  and  deprived  of  his  earldom,  might,  at  any 
moment,  raise  a  serious  civil  war.  He  had  only  to  show  him- 
self on  the  coast  of  Lorn,  and  an  army  would,  in  a  few  days, 
gather  round  him.  The  force  which,  in  favorable  circum- 
stances, he  could  bring  into  the  field,  amounted  to  five  thou- 
sand fighting-men,  devoted  to  his  service,  accustomed  to  the 
use  of  target  and  broadsword,  not  afraid  to  encounter  reg- 
ular troops  even  in  the  open  plain,  and  perhaps  superior  to 
regular  troops  in  the  qualifications  requisite  for  the  defence 
of  wild  mountain  passes,  hidden  in  mist,  and  torn  by  head- 
long torrents.  What  such  a  force,  well  directed,  could  effect, 
even  against  veteran  regiments  and  skilful  commanders,  was 
proved,  a  few  years  later,  at  Killiecrankie. 

But,  strong  as  was  the  claim  of  Argyle  to  the  confidence 
of  the  exiled  Scots,  there  was  a  faction  among  them  which 
sir  Patrick  regarded  him  with  no  friendly  feeling,  and  which 
wished  to  make  use  of  his  name  and  influence, 
without  intrusting  to  him  any  real  power.  The  chief  of  this 
faction  was  a  lowland  gentleman,  who  had  been  implicated  in 
the  Whig  plot,  and  had  with  difficulty  eluded  the  vengeance 
of  the  court,  Sir  Patrick  Hume,  of  Polwarth,  in  Berwickshire. 
Great  doubt  has  been  thrown  on  his  integrity,  but  without 
sufficient  reason.  It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that  he  in- 
jured his  cause  by  perverseness  as  much  as  he  could  have 
done  by  treachery.  He  was  a  man  incapable  alike  of  leading 
and  of  following,  conceited,  captious,  and  wrong-headed,  an 
sir  John  endless  talker,  a  sluggard  in  action  against  the  ene- 
my, and  active  only  against  his  own  allies.  With 
Hume  was  closely  connected  another  Scottish  exile  of  great 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  493 

note,  who  had  many  of  the  same  faults,  Sir  John  Cochrano, 
second  son  of  the  Earl  of  Dundonald. 

A  far  higher  character  belonged  to  Andrew  Fletcher  of 
Saltoun,  a  man  distinguished  by  learning  and  eloquence,  dis- 
Fietcherof  tinguishcd  also  by  courage,  disinterestedness,  and 
saitoun.  public  spirit,  but  of  an  irritable  and  impracticable 
temper.  Like  many  of  his  most  illustrious  contemporaries, 
Milton  for  example,  Harrington,  Marvel,  and  Sidney,  Fletcher 
had,  from  the  misgovernment  of  several  successive  princes, 
conceived  a  strong  aversion  to  hereditary  monarchy.  Yet  he 
was  no  democrat.  He  was  the  head  of  an  ancient  Norman 
house,  and  was  proud  of  his  descent.  He  was  a  fine  speaker 
and  a  fine  writer,  and  was  proud  of  his  intellectual  superior- 
ity. Both  in  his  character  of  gentleman  and  in  his  character 
of  scholar,  he  looked  down  with  disdain  on  the  common  peo- 
ple, and  was  so  little  disposed  to  intrust  them  with  political 
power  that  he  thought  them  unfit  even  to  enjoy  personal 
freedom.  It  is  a  curious  circumstance  that  this  man,  the 
most  honest,  fearless,  and  uncompromising  republican  of  his 
time,  should  have  been  the  author  of  a  plan  for  reducing  a 
large  part  of  the  working  classes  of  Scotland  to  slavery.  He 
bore,  in  truth,  a  lively  resemblance  to  those  Roman  Senators 
who,  while  they  hated  the  name  of  king,  guarded  the  privi- 
leges of  their  order  with  inflexible  pride  against  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  multitude,  and  governed  their  bondmen  and 
bondwomen  by  means  of  the  stocks  and  the  scourge. 

Amsterdam  was  the  place  where  the  leading  emigrants, 
Scotch  and  English,  assembled.  Argyle  repaired  thither  from 
Friesland,  Monmouth  from  Brabant.  It  soon  appeared  that 
the  fugitives  had  scarcely  anything  in  common  except  hatred 
of  James  and  impatience  to  return  from  banishment.  The 
Scots  were  jealous  of  the  English,  the  English  of  the  Scots. 
Monmouth's  high  pretensions  were  offensive  to  Argyle,  who, 
proud  of  ancient  nobility  and  of  a  legitimate  descent  from 
kings,  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  do  homage  to  the  off- 
spring of  a  vagrant  and  ignoble  love.  But  of  all  the  dissen- 
sions by  which  the  little  band  of  outlaws  was  distracted,  the 
most  serious  was  that  which  arose  between  Argyle  and  a  por- 


494  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V- 

tion  of  his  own  followers.  Some  of  the  Scottish  exiles  had, 
unreasonable  *»  »  long  course  of  opposition  to  tyranny,  been 
scS?ch  refii-he  excited  into  a  morbid  state  of  understanding  and 
Rees-  temper,  which  made  the  most  just  and  necessary 

restraint  insupportable  to  them.  They  knew  that  without 
Argyle  they  could  do  nothing.  They  ought  to  have  known 
that,  unless  they  wished  to  run  headlong  to  ruin,  they  must 
either  repose  full  confidence  in  their  leader,  or  relinquish  all 
thoughts  of  military  enterprise.  Experience  has  fully  proved 
that  in  war  every  operation,  from  the  greatest  to  the  smallest, 
ought  to  be  under  the  absolute  direction  of  one  mind,  and 
that  every  subordinate  agent,  in  his  degree,  ought  to  obey  im- 
plicitly, strenuously,  and  with  the  show  of  cheerfulness,  orders 
which  he  disapproves,  or  of  which  the  reasons  are  kept  secret 
from  him.  Representative  assemblies,  public  discussions,  and 
all  the  other  checks  by  which,  in  civil  affairs,  rulers  are  re- 
strained from  abusing  power,  are  out  of  place  in  a  camp. 
Machiavel  justly  imputed  many  of  the  disasters  of  Venice 
and  Florence  to  the  jealousy  which  led  those  republics  to  in- 
terfere with  every  act  of  their  generals.*  The  Dutch  prac- 
tice of  sending  to  an  army  deputies,  without  whose  consent 
no  great  blow  could  be  struck,  was  almost  equally  pernicious. 
It  is  undoubtedly  by  no  means  certain  that  a  captain,  who 
has  been  intrusted  with  dictatorial  power  in  the  hour  of  peril, 
will  quietly  surrender  that  power  in  the  hour  of  triumph ; 
and  this  is  one  of  the  many  considerations  which  ought  to 
make  men  hesitate  long  before  they  resolve  to  vindicate  pub- 
lic liberty  by  the  sword.  But,  if  they  determine  to  try  the 
chance  of  war,  they  will,  if  they  are  wise,  intrust  to  their 
chief  that  plenary  authority  without  which  war  cannot  be 
well  conducted.  It  is  possible  that,  if  they  give  him  that  au- 
thority, he  may  turn  out  a  Cromwell  or  a  Napoleon.  But  it 
is  almost  certain  that,  if  they  withhold  him  from  that  author- 
ity, their  enterprises  will  end  like  the  enterprise  of  Argyle. 

Some  of  the  Scottish  emigrants,  heated  with  republican  en- 
thusiasm, and  utterly  destitute  of  the  skill  necessary  to  the 

*  Discorsi  sopra  la  prima  Deca  di  Tito  Livio,  lib.  ii.,  c.  33. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  495 

conduct  of  great  affairs,  employed  all  their  industry  and  in- 
genuity, not  in  collecting  means  for  the  attack  which  they 
were  about  to  make  on  a  formidable  enemy,  but  in  devising 
restraints  on  their  leader's  power  and  securities  against  his 
ambition.  The  self-complacent  stupidity  with  which  they  in- 
sisted on  organizing  an  army  as  if  they  had  been  organizing  a 
commonwealth  would  be  incredible  if  it  had  not  been  frankly 
and  even  boastfully  recorded  by  one  of  themselves.* 

At  length  all  differences  were  compromised.  It  was  deter- 
Arrangement  mined  that  an  attempt  should  be  forthwith  made 
onr  England11*  on  tne  western  coast  of  Scotland,  and  that  it  should 
and  Scotland,  fa  prompt]y  followed  by  a  descent  on  England. 

Argyle  was  to  hold  the  nominal  command  in  Scotland: 
but  he  was  placed  under  the  control  of  a  committee  which  re- 
served to  itself  all  the  most  important  parts  of  the  military 
administration.  This  committee  was  empowered  to  determine 
where  the  expedition  should  land,  to  appoint  officers,  to  super- 
intend the  levying  of  troops,  to  dole  out  provisions  and  ammu- 
nition. Ail  that  was  left  to  the  general  was  to  direct  the  evo- 
lutions of  the  army  in  the  field,  and  he  was  forced  to  prom- 
ise that  even  in  the  field,  except  in  the  case  of  a  surprise,  he 
would  do  nothing  without  the  assent  of  a  council  of  war. 

Monmouth  was  to  command  in  England.  His  soft  mind 
had,  as  usual,  taken  an  impress  from  the  society  which  sur- 
rounded him.  Ambitious  hopes,  which  had  seemed  to  be 
extinguished,  revived  in  his  bosom.  He  remembered  the 
affection  with  which  he  had  been  constantly  greeted  by  the 
common  people  in  town  and  country,  and  expected  that  they 
would  now  rise  by  hundreds  of  thousands  to  welcome  him. 
He  remembered  the  good- will  which  the  soldiers  had  always 
borne  him,  and  flattered  himself  that  they  would  come  over 
to  him  by  regiments.  Encouraging  messages  reached  him  in 
quick  succession  from  London.  He  was  assured  that  the  vio- 
lence and  injustice  with  which  the  elections  had  been  carried 
on  had  driven  the  nation  mad,  that  the  prudence  of  the  lead- 
ing Whigs  had  with  difficulty  prevented  a  sanguinary  out- 

*  See  Sir  Patrick  Hume's  Narrative,  passim. 


400  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

break  on  the  day  of  the  coronation,  and  that  all  the  great 
Lords  who  had  supported  the  Exclusion  Bill  were  impatient 
to  rally  round  him.  Wildman,  who  loved  to  talk  treason  in 
parables,  sent  to  say  that  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  just  two  hun- 
dred years  before,  had  landed  in  England  with  a  handful  of 
men,  and  had  a  few  days  later  been  crowned,  on  the  field  of 
Bosworth,  with  the  diadem  taken  from  the  head  of  Richard. 
Danvers  undertook  to  raise  the  City.  The  Duke  was  de- 
ceived into  the  belief  that,  as  soon  as  he  set  up  his  standard, 
Bedfordshire,  Buckinghamshire,  Hampshire,  Cheshire  would 
rise  in  arms.*  He  consequently  became  eager  for  the  enter- 
prise from  which  a  few  weeks  before  he  had  shrunk.  His 
countrymen  did  not  impose  on  him  restrictions  so  elaborate- 
ly absurd  as  those  which  the  Scotch  emigrants  had  devised. 
All  that  was  required  of  him  was  to  promise  that  he  would 
not  assume  the  regal  title  till  his  pretensions  had  been  sub- 
mitted to  the  judgment  of  a  free  Parliament. 

It  was  determined  that  two  Englishmen,  Ayloffe  and  Rum- 
bold,  should  accompany  Argyle  to  Scotland,  and  that  Fletcher 
should  go  with  Monmouth  to  England.  Fletcher,  from  the 
beginning,  had  augured  ill  of  the  enterprise :  but  his  chival- 
rous spirit  would  not  suffer  him  to  decline  a  risk  which  his 
friends  seemed  eager  to  encounter.  When  Grey  repeated 
with  approbation  what  Wildman  had  said  about  Richmond 
and  Richard,  the  well  read  and  thoughtful  Scot  justly  re- 
marked that  there  was  a  great  difference  between  the  fifteenth 
century  and  the  seventeenth.  Richmond  was  assured  of  the 
support  of  barons,  each  of  whom  could  bring  an  army  of  feu- 
dal retainers  into  the  field ;  and  Richard  had  not  one  regi- 
ment of  regular  soldiers,  f 

The  exiles  were  able  to  raise,  partly  from  their  own  re- 
sources and  partly  from  the  contributions  of  well  wishers  in 
Holland,  a  sum  sufficient  for  the  two  expeditions.  Yery  lit- 
tle was  obtained  from  London.  Six  thousand  pounds  had 
been  expected  thence.  But  instead  of  the  money  came  ex- 


*  Grey's  Narrative ;  Wade's  Confession,  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 
\  Burnet,  i.,  631. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  497 

cases  from  Wildman,  which  ought  to  have  opened  the  eyes  of 
all  who  were  not  wilfully  blind.  The  Duke  made  up  the  de- 
ficiency by  pawning  his  own  jewels  and  those  of  Lady  Went- 
worth.  Arms,  ammunition,  and  provisions  were  bought,  and 
several  ships  which  lay  at  Amsterdam  were  freighted.* 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  most  illustrious  and  the  most 

grossly  injured  man  among  the  British  exiles  stood  far  aloof 

from  these  rash  counsels.     John  Locke  hated  tyran- 

John  Locke.  .  1-11  •      . 

ny  and  persecution  as  a  philosopher ;  but  his  intel- 
lect and  his  temper  preserved  him  from  the  violence  of  a  par- 
tisan. He  had  lived  on  confidential  terms  with  Shaftesbury, 
and  had  thus  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  court.  Locke's 
prudence  had,  however,  been  such  that  it  would  have  been  to 
little  purpose  to  bring  him  even  before  the  corrupt  and  par- 
tial tribunals  of  that  age.  In  one  point,  however,  he  was  vul- 
nerable. He  was  a  student  of  Christ  Church  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Oxford.  It  was  determined  to  drive  from  that  cele- 
brated college  the  greatest  man  of  whom  it  could  ever  boast. 
But  this  was  not  easy.  Locke  had,  at  Oxford,  abstained  from 
expressing  any  opinion  on  the  politics  of  the  day.  Spies  had 
been  set  about  him.  Doctors  of  Divinity  and  Masters  of  Arts 
had  not  been  ashamed  to  perform  the  vilest  of  all  offices,  that 
of  watching  the  lips  of,  a  companion  in  order  to  report  his 
words  to  his  ruin.  The  conversation  in  the  hall  had  been 
purposely  turned  to  irritating  topics,  to  the  Exclusion  Bill, 
and  to  the  character  of  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  but  in  vain. 
Locke  neither  broke  out  nor  dissembled,  but  maintained  such 
steady  silence  and  composure  as  forced  the  tools  of  power  to 
own  with  vexation  that  never  man  was  so  complete  a  master 
of  his  tongue  and  of  his  passions.  When  it  was  found  that 
treachery  could  do  nothing,  arbitrary  power  was  used.  After 
vainly  trying  to  inveigle  Locke  into  a  fault,  the  government 
resolved  to  punish  him  without  one.  Orders  came  from 
Whitehall  that  he  should  be  ejected ;  and  those  orders  the 
Dean  and  Canons  made  haste  to  obey. 

Locke  was  travelling  on  the  Continent  for  his  health  when 

*  Grey's  Narrative. 
I.— 32 


498  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V- 

he  learned  that  he  had  been  deprived  of  his  home  and  of  his 
bread  without  a  trial  or  even  a  notice.  The  injustice  with 
which  he  had  been  treated  would  have  excused  him  if  he  had 
resorted  to  violent  methods  of  redress.  But  he  was  not  to  be 
blinded  by  personal  resentment :  he  augured  no  good  from 
the  schemes  of  those  who  had  assembled  at  Amsterdam  ;  and 
he  quietly  repaired  to  Utrecht,  where,  while  his  partners  in 
misfortune  were  planning  their  own  destruction,  he  employed 
himself  in  writing  his  celebrated  letter  on  Toleration.* 

The  English  government  was  early  apprised  that  something 
was  in  agitation  among  the  outlaws.     An  invasion  of  Eng- 
land seems  not  to  have  been  at  first  expected :  but 

Preparations        .  r  7 

made  by  so-/-    it  was  apprehended  that  Argyle  would  shortly  ap- 

erninent  for  .  f-1"1 

the  defence  of  pear  in  arms  among  his  clansmen.  A  proclama- 
tion was  accordingly  issued  directing  that  Scotland 
should  be  put  into  a  state  of  defence.  The  militia  was  or- 
dered to  be  in  readiness.  All  the  clans  hostile  to  the  name 
of  Campbell  were  set  in  motion.  John  Murray,  Marquess  of 
Athol,  was  appointed  Lord-lieutenant  of  Argyleshire,  and,  at 
the  head  of  a  great  body  of  his  followers,  occupied  the  castle 
of  Inverary.  Some  suspected  persons  were  arrested.  Others 
were  compelled  to  give  hostages.  Ships  of  war  were  sent  to 
cruise  near  the  isle  of  Bute ;  and  part  of  the  army  of  Ireland 
was  moved  to  the  coast  of  Ulster,  f 

While  these  preparations  were  making  in  Scotland,  James 
called  into  his  closet  Arnold  Van  Citters,  who  had  long  re- 
conversation  sided  in  England  as  ambassador  from  the  United 
?heJDmeShWith  Provinces,  and  Everard  Yan  Dykvelt,  who,  after 
ambassadors.  tjie  ^atli  of  Charles,  had  been  sent  by  the  States- 
general  on  a  special  mission  of  condolence  and  congratula- 

*  Lc  Clerc's  Life  of  Locke ;  Lord  King's  Life  of  Locke ;  Lord  Grenville's  Ox- 
ford and  Locke.  Locke  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  Anabaptist  Nicholas 
Look,  whose  name  is  spelt  Locke  in  Grey's  Confession,  and  who  is  mentioned  in 
the  Lansdowne  MS.,  1152,  and  in  the  Buccleuch  narrative  appended  to  Mr.  Rose's 
dissertation.  I  should  hardly  think  it  necessary  to  make  this  remark,  but  that  the 
similarity  of  the  two  names  appears  to  have  misled  a  man  so  well  acquainted  with 
the  history  of  those  times  as  Speaker  Onslow.  See  his  note  on  Burnet,  i.,  629. 

f  Wodrow,  Book  III.,  Chap.  ix. ;    London   Gazette,  May  11,  1685;    Barillon, 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  499 

tion.  The  King  said  that  he  had  received  from  unquestiona- 
ble sources  intelligence  of  designs  which  were  forming  against 
his  throne  by  his  banished  subjects  in  Holland.  Some  of  the 
exiles  were  cutthroats,  whom  nothing  but  the  special  provi- 
dence of  God  had  prevented  from  committing  a  foul  murder ; 
and  among  them  was  the  owner  of  the  spot  which  had  been 
fixed  for  the  butchery.  "  Of  all  men  living,"  said  the  King, 
"  Argyle  has  the  greatest  means  of  annoying  me ;  and  of  all 
places  Holland  is  that  whence  a  blow  may  be  best  aimed 
against  me."  The  Dutch  envoys  assured  His  Majesty  that 
what  he  had  said  should  instantly  be  communicated  to  the 
government  which  they  represented,  and  expressed  their  full 
confidence  that  every  exertion  would  be  made  to  satisfy  him.* 

They  were  justified  in  expressing  this  confidence.  Both 
the  Prince  of  Orange  and  the  States  -  general  were,  at  this 
ineffectual  time,  most  desirous  that  the  hospitality  of  their 
vr^ventAr^yie  country  should  not  be  abused  for  purposes  of 
from  sailing.  wnjcn  the  English  government  could  justly  com- 
plain. James  had  lately  held  language  which  encouraged  the 
hope  that  he  would  not  patiently  submit  to  the  ascendency  of 
France.  It  seemed  probable  that  he  would  consent  to  form  a 
close  alliance  with  the  United  Provinces  and  the  House  of 
Austria.  There  was,  therefore,  at  the  Hague,  an  extreme  anx- 
iety to  avoid  all  that  could  give  him  offence.  The  personal 
interest  of  William  was  also  on  this  occasion  identical  with 
the  interest  of  his  father-in-law. 

But  the  case  was  one  which  required  rapid  and  vigorous 
action ;  and  the  nature  of  the  Batavian  institutions  made 
such  action  almost  impossible.  The  Union  of  Utrecht,  rude- 
ly formed,  amidst  the  agonies  of  a  revolution,  for  the  purpose 
of  meeting  immediate  exigencies,  had  never  been  deliberately 
revised  and  perfected  in  a  time  of  tranquillity.  Every  one 
of  the  seven  commonwealths  which  that  Union  had  bound 
together  retained  almost  all  the  rights  of  sovereignty,  and 
asserted  those  rights  punctiliously  against  the  central  govern- 
ment. As  the  federal  authorities  had  not  the  means  of  exact- 

*  Register  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  States-general,  May  -fg,  1685. 


500  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Clt.  V. 

ing  prompt  obedience  from  the  provincial  authorities,  so  the 
provincial  authorities  had  not  the  means  of  exacting  prompt 
obedience  from  the  municipal  authorities.  Holland  alone 
contained  eighteen  cities,  each  of  which  was,  for  many  pur- 
poses, an  independent  state,  jealous  of  all  interference  from 
without.  If  the  rulers  of  such  a  city  received  from  the 
Hague  an  order  which  was  unpleasing  to  them,  they  either 
neglected  it  altogether,  or  executed  it  languidly  and  tardily. 
In  some  town  councils,  indeed,  the  influence  of  the  Prince  of 
Orange  was  all  powerful.  But  unfortunately  the  place  where 
the  British  exiles  had  congregated,  and  where  their  ships  had 
been  fitted  out,  was  the  rich  and  populous  Amsterdam ;  and 
the  magistrates  of  Amsterdam  were  the  heads  of  the  faction 
hostile  to  the  federal  government  and  to  the  House  of  Nas- 
sau. The  naval  administration  of  the  United  Provinces  was 
conducted  by  five  distinct  boards  of  Admiralty.  One  of 
those  boards  sat  at  Amsterdam,  was  partly  nominated  by 
the  authorities  of  that  city,  and  seems  to  have  been  entirely 
animated  by  their  spirit. 

All  the  endeavors  of  the  federal  government  to  effect  what 
James  desired  were  frustrated  by  the  evasions  of  the  func- 
tionaries of  Amsterdam,  and  by  the  blunders  of  Colonel  Bevil 
Skelton,  who  had  just  arrived  at  the  Hague  as  envoy  from 
England.  Skelton  had  been  born  in  Holland  during  the  Eng- 
lish troubles,  and  was,  therefore,  supposed  to  be  peculiarly 
qualified  for  his  post  ;*  but  he  was,  in  truth,  unfit  for  that 
and  for  every  other  diplomatic  situation.  Excellent  judges 
of  character  pronounced  him  to  be  the  most  shallow,  fickle, 
passionate,  presumptuous,  and  garrulous  of  men.f  He  took 
no  serious  notice  of  the  proceedings  of  the  refugees  till  three 
vessels  which  had  been  equipped  for  the  expedition  to  Scot- 
land were  safe  out  of  the  Zuyder  Zee,  till  the  arms,  ammu- 
nition, and  provisions  were  on  board,  and  till  the  passengers 
had  embarked.  Then,  instead  of  applying,  as  he  should  have 
done,  to  the  States-general,  who  sat  close  to  his  own  door,  he 


*  This  is  mentioned  in  his  credentials  dated  on  the  16th  of  March,  168J. 
f  Bonrepaux  to  Seignelay,  February  ^,  1686. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  501 

sent  a  messenger  to  the  magistrates  of  Amsterdam,  with  a 
request  that  the  suspected  ships  might  be  detained.  The 
magistrates  of  Amsterdam  answered  that  the  entrance  of  the 
Zuyder  Zee  was  out  of  their  jurisdiction,  and  referred  him  to 
the  federal  government.  It  was  notorious  that  this  was  a 
mere  excuse,  and  that,  if  there  had  been  any  real  wish  at  the 
Stadthouse  of  Amsterdam  to  prevent  Argyle  from  sailing,  no 
difficulties  would  have  been  made.  Skelton  now  addressed 
himself  to  the  States-general.  They  showed  every  disposition 
to  comply  with  his  demand,  and,  as  the  case  was  urgent,  de- 
parted from  the  course  which  they  ordinarily  observed  in  the 
transaction  of  business.  On  the  same  day  on  which  he  made 
his  application  to  them,  an  order,  drawn  in  exact  conformity 
with  his  request,  was  despatched  to  the  Admiralty  of  Amster- 
dam. But  this  order,  in  consequence  of  some  misinformation, 
did  not  correctly  describe  the  situation  of  the  ships.  They 
were  said  to  be  in  the  Texel.  They  were  in  the  Vlie.  The 
Admiralty  of  Amsterdam  made  this  error  a  plea  for  doing 
nothing;  and,  before  the  error  could  be  rectified,  the  three 
ships  had  sailed.* 

The  last  hours  which  Argyle  passed  on  the  coast  of  Hol- 
land were  hours  of  great  anxiety.     Near  him  lay  a  Dutch 
man-of-war  whose  broadside  would  in  a  moment 

Departure  of  . 

Argyiefrom     have  put  an   end  to  his  expedition.      Round  his 

Holland.  £  .       r  . 

little  fleet  a  boat  was  rowing,  in  which  were  some 
persons  with  telescopes  whom  he  suspected  to  be  spies.  But 
no  effectual  step  was  taken  for  the  purpose  of  detaining  him ; 
and  on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  of  May  he  stood  out  to 
sea  before  a  favorable  breeze. 

The  voyage  was  prosperous.  On  the  sixth  the  Orkneys 
were  in  sight.  Argyle  very  unwisely  anchored  off  Kirkwall, 
and  allowed  two  of  his  followers  to  go  on  shore  there.  The 
Bishop  ordered  them  to  be  arrested.  The  refugees  proceeded 
to  hold  a  long  and  animated  debate  on  this  misadventure : 


*  Avaux  Nog.,  MPa" !o''May  tT»  May  Tif>  1685 !  Sir  Patrick  Hume's  Narrative; 
Letter  from  the  Admiralty  of  Amsterdam  to  the  States-general,  dated  June  20, 
1685;  Memorial  of  Skelton,  delivered  to  the  States-general,  May  10,  1685. 


502  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

for,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  their  expedition,  how- 
ever languid  and  irresolute  their  conduct  might  be,  they  never 
in  debate  wanted  spirit  or  perseverance.  Some  were  for  an 
attack  on  Kirkwall.  Some  were  for  proceeding  without  delay 
to  Argyleshire.  At  last  the  Earl  seized  some  gentlemen  who 
lived  near  the  coast  of  the  island,  and  proposed  to  the  Bishop 
an  exchange  of  prisoners.  The  Bishop  returned  no  answer; 
and  the  fleet,  after  losing  three  days,  sailed  away. 

This  delay  was  full  of  danger.  It  was  speedily  known  at 
Edinburgh  that  the  rebel  squadron  had  touched  at  the  Ork- 
HC  lands  in  neys.  Troops  were  instantly  put  in  motion.  When 
the  Earl  reached  his  own  province,  he  found  that 
preparations  had  been  made  to  repel  him.  At  Dunstaffnage 
he  sent  his  second  son  Charles  on  shore  to  call  the  Campbells 
to  arms.  But  Charles  returned  with  gloomy  tidings.  The 
herdsmen  and  fishermen  were  indeed  ready  to  rally  round 
MacCallum  More ;  but,  of  the  heads  of  the  clan,  some  were 
in  confinement,  and  others  had  fled.  Those  gentlemen  who 
remained  at  their  homes  were  either  well  affected  to  the  gov- 
ernment or  afraid  of  moving,  and  refused  even  to  see  the  son 
of  their  chief.  From  Dunstaffnage  the  small  armament  pro- 
ceeded to  Campbelltown,  near  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
peninsula  of  Kintyre.  Here  the  Earl  published  a  manifesto, 
drawn  up  in  Holland,  under  the  direction  of  the  Committee, 
by  James  Stewart,  a  Scotch  advocate,  whose  pen  was,  a  few 
months  later,  employed  in  a  very  different  wa}T.  In  this 
paper  were  set  forth,  with  a  strength  of  language  sometimes 
approaching  to  scurrility,  many  real  and  some  imaginary 
grievances.  It  was  hinted  that  the  late  King  had  died  by 
poison.  A  chief  object  of  the  expedition  was  declared  to  be 
the  entire  suppression,  not  only  of  Popery,  but  of  Prelacy, 
which  was  termed  the  most  bitter  root  and  offspring  of  Pop- 
ery ;  and  all  good  Scotchmen'  were  exhorted  to  do  valiantly 
for  the  cause  of  their  country  and  of  their  God. 

Zealous  as  Argyle  was  for  what  he  considered  as  pure  re- 
ligion, he  did  not  scruple  to  practise  one  rite  half  Popish  and 
half  Pagan.  The  mysterious  cross  of  yew,  first  set  on  fire,  and 
then  quenched  in  the  blood  of  a  goat,  was  sent  forth  to  sum- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  503 

mon  all  the  Campbells,  from  sixteen  to  sixty.  The  isthmus 
of  Tarbet  was  appointed  for  the  place  of  gathering.  The 
muster,  though  small  indeed  when  compared  with  what  it 
would  have  been  if  the  spirit  and  strength  of  the  clan  had 
been  unbroken,  was  still  formidable.  The  whole  force  assem- 
bled amounted  to  about  eighteen  hundred  men.  Argyle  di- 
vided his  mountaineers  into  three  regiments,  and  proceeded 
to  appoint  officers. 

The  bickerings  which  had  begun  in  Holland  had  never 

been  intermitted  during  the  whole  course  of  the  expedition : 

but  at  Tarbet  they  became  more  violent  than  ever. 

His  disputes  .  .  ,      •. 

with  his  foi-  I  he  Committee  wished  to  interfere  even  with  the 
patriarchal  dominion  of  the  Earl  over  the  Camp- 
bells, and  would  not  allow  him  to  settle  the  military  rank  of 
his  kinsmen  by  his  own  authority.  While  these  disputatious 
meddlers  tried  to  wrest  from  him  his  power  over  the  High- 
lands, they  carried  on  their  own  correspondence  with  the 
Lowlands,  and  received  and  sent  letters  which  were  never 
communicated  to  the  nominal  General.  Hume  and  his  con- 
federates had  reserved  to  themselves  the  superintendence  of 
the  stores,  and  conducted  this  important  part  of  the  admin- 
istration of  war  with  a  laxity  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from 
dishonesty,  suffered  the  arms  to  be  spoiled,  wasted  the  pro- 
visions, and  lived  riotously  at  a  time  when  they  ought  to  have 
set  to  all  beneath  them  an  example  of  abstemiousness. 

The  great  question  was  whether  the  Highlands  or  the  Low- 
lands should  be  the  seat  of  war.  The  Earl's  first  object  was 
to  establish  his  authority  over  his  own  domains,  to  drive  out 
the  invading  clans  which  had  been  poured  from  Perthshire 
into  Argyleshire,  and  to  take  possession  of  the  ancient  seat  of 
his  family  at  Inverary.  He  might  then  hope  to  have  four  or 
five  thousand  claymores  at  his  command.  With  such  a  force 
he  would  be  able  to  defend  that  wild  country  against  the 
whole  power  of  the  kingdom  of  Scotland,  and  would  also 
have  secured  an  excellent  base  for  offensive  operations.  This 
seems  to  have  been  the  wisest  course  open  to  him.  Rumbold, 
who  had  been  trained  in  an  excellent  military  school,  and 
who,  as  an  Englishman,  might  be  supposed  to  be  an  impartial 


504:  HISTORY  OB"  ENGLAND.  CH.  V- 

umpire  between  the  Scottish  factions,  did  all  in  his  power  to 
strengthen  the  Earl's  hands.  But  Hume  and  Cochrane  were 
utterly  impracticable.  Their  jealousy  of  Argyle  was,  in  truth, 
stronger  than  their  wish  for  the  success  of  the  expedition. 
They  saw  that,  among  his  own  mountains  and  lakes,  and  at 
the  head  of  an  army  chiefly  composed  of  his  own  tribe,  he 
would  be  able  to  bear  down  their  opposition,  and  to  exercise 
the  full  authority  of  a  general.  They  muttered  that  the  only 
men  who  had  the  good  cause  at  heart  were  the  Lowlanders, 
and  that  the  Campbells  took  up  arms  neither  for  liberty  nor 
for  the  Church  of  God,  but  for  MacCallum  More  alone. 
Cochrane  declared  that  he  would  go  to  Ayrshire  if  he  went 
by  himself,  and  with  nothing  but  a  pitchfork  in  his  hand. 
Argyle,  after  long  resistance,  consented,  against  his  better 
judgment,  to  divide  his  little  army.  He  remained  with  Rum- 
bold  in  the  Highlands.  Cochrane  and  Plume  were  at  the 
head  of  the  force  which  sailed  to  invade  the  Lowlands. 

Ayrshire  was  Cochrane's  object :  but  the  coast  of  Ayrshire 
was  guarded  by  English  frigates ;  and  the  adventurers  were 
under  the  necessity  of  running  up  the  estuary  of  the  Clyde 
to  Greenock,  then  a  small  fishing-village  consisting  of  a  single 
row  of  thatched  hovels,  now  a  great  and  flourishing  port,  of 
which  the  customs  amount  to  more  than  five  times  the  whole 
revenue  which  the  Stuarts  derived  from  the  kingdom  of  Scot- 
land. A  party  of  militia  lay  at  Greenock;  but  Cochrane, 
who  wanted  provisions,  was  determined  to  land.  Hume  ob- 
jected. Cochrane  was  peremptory,  and  ordered  an  officer, 
named  Elphinstone,  to  take  twenty  men  in  a  boat  to  the  shore. 
But  the  wrangling  spirit  of  the  leaders  had  infected  all  ranks. 
Elphinstone  answered  that  he  was  bound  to  obey  only  reason- 
able commands,  that  he  considered  this  command  as  unreason- 
able, and,  in  short,  that  he  would  not  go.  Major  Fullarton,  a 
brave  man,  esteemed  by  all  parties,  but  peculiarly  attached  to 
Argyle,  undertook  to  land  with  only  twelve  men,  and  did  so 
in  spite  of  a  fire  from  the  coast.  A  slight  skirmish  followed. 
The  militia  fell  back.  Cochrane  entered  Greenock  and  pro- 
cured a  supply  of  meal,  but  found  no  disposition  to  insurrec- 
tion among  the  people. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  505 

In  fact,  the  state  of  public  feeling  in  Scotland  was  not  such 
as  the  exiles,  misled  by  the  infatuation  common  in  all  ages 
Temper  of  the  to  exiles,  had  supposed  it  to  be.  The  government 
scotch  nation.  w^  info^  hatef  ul  and  hated.  But  the  malcon- 
tents were  divided  into  parties  which  were  almost  as  hostile 
to  one  another  as  to  their  rulers ;  nor  was  any  of  those  parties 
eager  to  join  the  invaders.  Many  thought  that  the  insurrec- 
tion had  no  chance  of  success.  The  spirit  of  many  had  been 
effectually  broken  by  long  and  cruel  oppression.  There  was, 
indeed,  a  class  of  enthusiasts  who  were  little  in  the  habit  of 
calculating  chances,  and  whom  oppression  had  not  tamed  but 
maddened.  But  these  men  saw  little  difference  between 
Argyle  and  James.  Their  wrath  had  been  heated  to  such 
a  temperature  that  what  everybody  else  would  have  called 
boiling  zeal  seemed  to  them  Laodicean  lukewarmness.  The 

o 

Earl's  past  life  had  been  stained  by  what  they  regarded  as  the 
vilest  apostasy.  The  very  Highlanders  whom  he  now  sum- 
moned to  extirpate  Prelacy  he  had  a  few  years  before  sum- 
moned to  defend  it.  And  were  slaves  who  knew  nothing 
and  cared  nothing  about  religion,  who  wrere  ready  to  fight  for 
synod ical  government,  for  Episcopacy,  for  Popery,  just  as 
MacCallum  More  might  be  pleased  to  command,  fit  allies  for 
the  people  of  God  ?  The  manifesto,  indecent  and  intolerant 
as  was  its  tone,  was,  in  the  view  of  these  fanatics,  a  coward- 
ly and  worldly  performance.  A  settlement  such  as  Argyle 
would  have  made,  such  as  was  afterward  made  by  a  mightier 
and  happier  deliverer,  seemed  to  them  not  worth  a  struggle. 
They  wanted  not  only  freedom  of  conscience  for  themselves, 
but  absolute  dominion  over  the  consciences  of  others;  not 
only  the  Presbyterian  doctrine,  polity,  and  worship,  but  the 
Covenant  in  its  utmost  rigor.  Nothing  would  content  them 
but  that  every  end  for  which  civil  society  exists  should  be 
sacrificed  to  the  ascendency  of  a  theological  system.  One 
who  believed  no  form  of  church  government  to  be  worth  a 
breach  of  Christian  charity,  and  who  recommended  compre- 
hension and  toleration,  was,  in  their  phrase,  halting  between 
Jehovah  and  Baal.  One  who  condemned  such  acts  as  the 
murder  of  Cardinal  Beatoun  and  Archbishop  Sharpe  fell  into 


506  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

the  same  sin  for  which  Saul  had  been  rejected  from  being 
king  over  Israel.  All  the  rules  by  which,  among  civilized 
and  Christian  men,  the  horrors  of  war  are  mitigated,  were 
abominations  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  Quarter  was  to  be 
iieither  taken  nor  given.  A  Malay  running  a  muck,  a  mad 
dog  pursued  by  a  crowd,  were  the  models  to  be  imitated  by 
warriors  fighting  in  just  self-defence.  To  reasons  such  as 
guide  the  conduct  of  statesmen  and  generals  the  minds  of 
these  zealots  were  absolutely  impervious.  That  a  man  should 
venture  to  urge  such  reasons  was  sufficient  evidence  that  he 
was  not  one  of  the  faithful.  If  the  divine  blessing  were  with- 
held, little  would  be  eifected  by  crafty  politicians,  by  veteran 
captains,  by  cases  of  arms  from  Holland,  or  by  regiments  of 
unregenerate  Celts  from  the  mountains  of  Lorn.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  Lord's  time  were  indeed  come,  he  could  still, 
as  of  old,  cause  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  wise,  and  could  save  alike  by  many  and  by  few.  The 
broadswords  of  Athol  and  the  bayonets  of  Claverhouse  would 
be  put  to  rout  by  weapons  as  insignificant  as  the  sling  of 
David  or  the  pitcher  of  Gideon.* 

Cochrane,  having  found  it  impossible  to  raise  the  popula- 
tion on  the  south  of  the  Clyde,  rejoined  Argyle,  who  was  in 
the  island  of  Bute.  The  Earl  now  again  proposed  to  make 
an  attempt  upon  Inverary.  Again  he  encountered  a  pertina- 
cious opposition.  The  seamen  sided  with  Hume  and  Coch- 
rane. The  Highlanders  were  absolutely  at  the  command  of 
their  chieftain.  There  was  reason  to  fear  that  the  two  parties 
would  come  to  blows;  and  the  dread  of  such  a  disaster  in- 
duced the  Committee  to  make  some  concession.  The  castle 
of  Ealan  Ghierig,  situated  at  the  mouth  of  Loch  Biddan,  was 
selected  to  be  the  chief  place  of  arms.  The  military  stores 
were  disembarked  there.  The  squadron  was  moored  close  to 
the  walls  in  a  place  where  it  was  protected  by  rocks  and 
shallows  such  as,  it  was  thought,  no  frigate  could  pass.  Out- 

*  If  any  person  is  inclined  to  suspect  that  I  have  exaggerated  the  absurdity  and 
ferocity  of  these  men,  I  would  advise  him  to  read  two  books,  which  will  convince 
him  that  I  have  rather  softened  than  overcharged  the  portrait,  the  Hind  Let  Loose, 
and  Faithful  Contendings  Displayed. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  507 

works  were  thrown  up.  A  battery  was  planted  with  some 
small  guns  taken  from  the  ships.  The  command  of  the  fort 
was  most  unwisely  given  to  Elphinstone,  who  had  already 
proved  himself  much  more  disposed  to  argue  with  his  com- 
manders than  to  fight  the  enemy. 

And  now,  during  a  few  hours,  there  was  some  show  of 
vigor.  Rimibold  took  the  castle  of  Ardkinglass.  The  Earl 
skirmished  successfully  with  Athol's  troops,  and  was  about  to 
advance  on  Inverary,  when  alarming  news  from  the  ships  and 
factions  in  the  Committee  forced  him  to  turn  back.  The 
King's  frigates  had  come  nearer  to  Ealan  Ghierig  than  had 
been  thought  possible.  The  Lowland  gentlemen  positively 
refused  to  advance  farther  into  the  Highlands.  Argyle  has- 
tened back  to  Ealan  Ghierig.  There  he  proposed  to  make  an 
attack  on  the  frigates.  His  ships,  indeed,  were  ill  fitted  for 
such  an  encounter.  But  they  would  have  been  supported  by 
a  flotilla  of  thirty  large  fishing-boats,  each  well  manned  with 
armed  Highlanders.  The  Committee,  however,  refused  to 
listen  to  this  plan,  and  effectually  counteracted  it  by  raising 
a  mutiny  among  the  sailors. 

All  was  now  confusion  and  despondency.  The  provisions 
had  been  so  ill  managed  by  the  Committee  that  there  was  no 
longer  food  for  the  troops.  The  Highlanders  consequently 
deserted  by  hundreds ;  and  the  Earl,  broken-hearted  by  his 
misfortunes,  yielded  to  the  urgency  of  those  who  still  perti- 
naciously insisted  that  he  should  march  into  the  Lowlands. 

The  little  army  therefore  hastened  to  the  shore  of  Loch 
Long,  passed  that  inlet  by  night  in  boats,  and  landed  in  Dum- 
bartonshire. Hither,  on  the  following  morning,  came  news 
that  the  frigates  had  forced  a  passage,  that  all  the  Earl's  ships 
had  been  taken,  and  that  Elphinstone  had  fled  from  Ealan 
Ghierig  without  a  blow,  leaving  the  castle  and  stores  to  the 
enemy. 

All  that  remained  was  to  invade  the  Lowlands  under  every 
disadvantage.  Argyle  resolved  to  make  a  bold  push  for  Glas- 
gow. But,  as  soon  as  this  resolution  was  announced,  the  very 
men  who  had,  up  to  that  moment,  been  urging  him  to  hasten 
into  the  low  country,  took  fright,  argued,  remonstrated,  and, 


508  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V- 

when  argument  and  remonstrance  proved  vain,  laid  a  scheme 
for  seizing  the  boats,  making  their  own  escape,  and  leaving 
their  General  and  his  clansmen  to  conquer  or  perish  unaided. 
This  scheme  failed;  and  the  poltroons  who  had  formed  it 
were  compelled  to  share  with  braver  men  the  risks  of  the  last 
venture. 

During  the  march  through  the  country  which  lies  between 
Loch  Long  and  Loch  Lomond,  the  insurgents  were  constantly 
infested  by  parties  of  militia.  Some  skirmishes  took  place, 
in  which  the  Earl  had  the  advantage ;  but  the  bands  which 
he  repelled,  falling  back  before  him,  spread  the  tidings  of  his 
approach,  and,  soon  after  he  had  crossed  the  river  Leven,  he 
found  a  strong  body  of  regular  and  irregular  troops  prepared 
to  encounter  him. 

He  was  for  giving  battle.  Ayloffe  was  of  the  same  opin- 
ion. Hume,  on  the  other  hand,  declared  that  to  fight  would 
be  madness.  He  saw  one  regiment  in  scarlet.  More  might 
be  behind.  To  attack  such  a  force  wras  to  rush  on  certain 
death.  The  best  course  was  to  remain  quiet  till  night,  and 
then  to  give  the  enemy  the  slip. 

A  sharp  altercation  followed,  which  was  with  difficulty  qui- 
eted by  the  meditation  of  Rumbold.  It  was  now  evening. 
The  hostile  armies  encamped  at  no  great  distance  from  each 
other.  The  Earl  ventured  to  propose  a  night  attack,  and  was 
again  overruled. 

Since  it  was  determined  not  to  fight,  nothing  was  left  but 
to  take  the  step  which  Hume  had  recommended.  There  was 
Argyie's  forces  a  chance  that,  by  decamping  secretly,  and  hastening 
dispersed.  aj^  njght  across  heaths  and  morasses,  the  Earl  might 
gain  many  miles  on  the  enemy,  and  might  reach  Glasgow 
without  further  obstruction.  The  watch-fires  were  left  burn- 
ing, and  the  march  began.  And  now  disaster  followed  dis- 
aster fast.  The  guides  mistook  the  track  across  the  moors, 
and  led  the  army  into  boggy  ground.  Military  order  could 
not  be  preserved  by  undisciplined  and  disheartened  soldiers 
under  a  dark  sky,  and  on  a  treacherous  and  uneven  soil. 
Panic  after  panic  spread  through  the  broken  ranks.  Every 
sight  and  sound  was  thought  to  indicate  the  approach  of  pur- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  509 

suers.  Some  of  the  officers  contributed  to  spread  the  terror 
which  it  was  their  duty  to  calm.  The  army  had  become  a 
mob,  and  the  mob  melted  fast  away.  Great  numbers  fled 
under  cover  of  the  night.  Rumbold  and  a  few  other  brave 
men  whom  no  danger  could  have  scared  lost  their  way,  and 
were  unable  to  rejoin  the  main  body.  When  the  day  broke, 
only  five  hundred  fugitives,  wearied  and  dispirited,  assembled 
at  Kilpatrick. 

All  thought  of  prosecuting  the  war  was  at  an  end :  and  it 
was  plain  that  the  chiefs  of  the  expedition  would  have  suffi- 
Argyie  a  pris-  cient  difficulty  in  escaping  with  their  lives.  They 
fled  in  different  directions.  Hume  reached  the 
Continent  in  safety.  Cochrane  was  taken  and  sent  up  to 
London.  Argyle  hoped  to  find  a  secure  asylum  under  the 
roof  of  one  of  his  old  servants  who  lived  near  Kilpatrick. 
But  this  hope  was  disappointed,  and  he  was  forced  to  cross 
the  Clyde.  He  assumed  the  dress  of  a  peasant,  and  pretended 
to  be  the  guide  of  Major  Fullarton,  whose  courageous  fidel- 
ity was  proof  to  all  danger.  The  friends  journeyed  together 
through  Renfrewshire  as  far  as  Inchinnari.  At  that  place  the 
Black  Cart  and  the  White  Cart,  two  streams  which  now  flow 
through  prosperous  towns,  and  turn  the  wrheels  of  many  fac- 
tories, but  which  then  held  their  quiet  course  through  moors 
and  sheep-walks,  mingle  before  they  join  the  Clyde.  The 
only  ford  by  which  the  travellers  could  cross  was  guarded  by 
a  party  of  militia.  Some  questions  were  asked.  Fullarton 
tried  to  draw  suspicion  on  himself,  in  order  that  his  compan- 
ion might  escape  unnoticed.  But  the  minds  of  the  question- 
ers misgave  them  that  the  guide  was  not  the  rude  clown  that 
he  seemed.  They  laid  hands  on  him.  He  broke  loose  and 
sprang  into  the  water,  but  wras  instantly  chased.  He  stood  at 
bay  for  a  short  time  against  five  assailants.  But  he  had  no 
arms  except  his  pocket-pistols,  and  they  were  so  wet,  in  con- 
sequence of  his  plunge,  that  they  would  not  go  off.  He  was 
struck  to  the  ground  with  a  broadsword,  and  secured. 

He  owned  himself  to  be  the  Earl  of  Argyle,  probably  in 
the  hope  that  his  great  name  would  excite  the  awe  and  pity 
of  those  who  had  seized  him.  And  indeed  they  were  much 


510  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

moved.  For  they  were  plain  Scotchmen  of  humble  rank,  and, 
though  in  arms  for  the  crown,  probably  cherished  a  preference 
for  the  Calvinistic  church  government  and  worship,  and  had 
been  accustomed  to  reverence  their  captive  as  the  head  of  an 
illustrious  house  and  as  a  champion  of  the  Protestant  religion. 
But,  though  they  were  evidently  touched,  and  though  some 
of  them  even  wept,  they  were  not  disposed  to  relinquish  a 
large  reward  and  to  incur  the  vengeance  of  an  implacable 
government.  They  therefore  conveyed  their  prisoner  to  Ren- 
frew. The  man  who  bore  the  chief  part  in  the  arrest  was 
named  Riddell.  On  this  account  the  whole  race  of  Riddells 
was,  during  more  than  a  century,  held  in  abhorrence  by  the 
great  tribe  of  Campbell.  Within  living  memory,  when  a 
Riddell  visited  a  fair  in  Argyleshire,  he  found  it  necessary  to 
assume  a  false  name. 

And  now  commenced  the  brightest  part  of  Argyle's  career. 
His  enterprise  had  hitherto  brought  on  him  nothing  but  re- 
proach and  derision.  His  great  error  was  that  he  did  not 
resolutely  refuse  to  accept  the  name  without  the  power  of  a 
general.  Had  he  remained  quietly  at  his  retreat  in  Friesland, 
he  would  in  a  few  years  have  been  recalled  with  honor  to  his 
country,  and  would  have  been  conspicuous  among  the  orna- 
ments and  the  props  of  constitutional  monarchy.  Had  he 
conducted  his  expedition  according  to  his  own  views,  and  car- 
ried with  him  no  followers  but  such  as  were  prepared  implic- 
itly to  obey  all  his  orders,  he  might  possibly  have  effected 
something  great.  For  what  he  wanted  as  a  captain  seems  to 
have  been,  not  courage,  nor  activity,  nor  skill,  but  simply  au- 
thority. He  should  have  known  that  of  all  wants  this  is  the 
most  fatal.  Armies  have  triumphed  under  leaders  who  pos- 
sessed no  very  eminent  qualifications.  But  what  army  com- 
manded by  a  debating  club  ever  escaped  discomfiture  and 
disgrace  ? 

The  great  calamity  which  had  fallen  on  Argyle  had  this 
advantage,  that  it  enabled  him  to  show,  by  proofs  not  to  be 
mistaken,  what  manner  of  man  he  was.  From  the  day  when 
he  quitted  Friesland  to  the  day  when  his  followers  separated 
at  Kilpatrickj  he  had  never  been  a  free  agent.  He  had  borne 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  511 

the  responsibility  of  a  long  series  of  measures  wlricli  his  judg- 
ment disapproved.  Now  at  length  he  stood  alone.  Captivity 
had  restored  to  him  the  noblest  kind  of  liberty,  the  liberty  of 
governing  himself  in  all  his  words  and  actions  according  to 
his  own  sense  of  the  right  and  of  the  becoming.  From  that 
moment  he  became  as  one  inspired  with  new  wisdom  and  vir- 
tue. His  intellect  seemed  to  be  strengthened  and  concentra- 
ted, his  moral  character  to  be  at  once  elevated  and  softened. 
The  insolence  of  the  conquerors  spared  nothing  that  could  try 
the  temper  of  a  man  proud  of  ancient  nobility  and  of  patri- 
archal dominion.  The  prisoner  was  dragged  through  Edin- 
burgh in  triumph.  He  walked  on  foot,  bareheaded,  up  the 
whole  length  of  that  stately  street  which,  overshadowed  by 
dark  and  gigantic  piles  of  stone,  leads  from  Holyrood  House 
to  the  Castle.  Before  him  marched  the  hangman,  bearing  the 
ghastly  instrument  which  was  to  be  used  at  the  quartering- 
block.  The  victorious  party  had  not  forgotten  that,  thirty- 
five  years  before  this  time,  the  father  of  Argyle  had  been  at 
the  head  of  the  faction  which  put  Montrose  to  death.  Before 
that  event  the  houses  of  Graham  and  Campbell  had  borne  no 
love  to  each  other ;  and  they  had  ever  since  been  at  deadly 
feud.  Care  was  taken  that  the  prisoner  should  pass  through 
the  same  gate  and  the  same  streets  through  which  Montrose 
had  been  led  to  the  same  doom.*  When  the  Earl  reached  the 
Castle  his  legs  were  put  in  irons,  and  he  was  informed  that 
he  had  but  a  few  days  to  live.  It  had  been  determined  not 
to  bring  him  to  trial  for  his  recent  offence,  but  to  put  him 
to  death  under  the  sentence  pronounced  against  him  several 
years  before,  a  sentence  so  flagitiously  unjust  that  the  most 
servile  and  obdurate  lawyers  of  that  bad  age  could  not  speak 
of  it  without  shame. 

But  neither  the  ignominious  procession  up  the  High  Street, 
nor  the  near  view  of  death,  had  power  to  disturb  the  gentle 
and  majestic  patience  of  Argyle.  His  fortitude  was  tried  by 

*  A  few  words  which  were  in  the  first  five  editions  have  been  omitted  in  this 
place.  Here  and  in  another  passage  I  had,  as  Mr.  Aytoun  has  observed,  mistaken 
the  City  Guards,  which  were  commanded  by  an  officer  named  Graham,  for  the 
Dragoons  of  Graham  of  Claverhouse. 


512  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

a  still  more  severe  test.  A  paper  of  interrogatories  was  laid 
before  him  by  order  of  the  Privy  Council.  He  replied  to 
those  questions  to  which  he  could  reply  without  danger  to 
any  of  his  friends,  and  refused  to  say  more.  He  was  told 
that  unless  he  returned  fuller  answers  he  should  be  put  to  the 
torture.  James,  who  was  doubtless  sorry  that  he  could  not 
feast  his  own  eyes  with  the  sight  of  Argyle  in  the  boots,  sent 
down  to  Edinburgh  positive  orders  that  nothing  should  be 
omitted  which  could  wring  out  of  the  traitor  information 
against  all  who  had  been  concerned  in  the  treason.  But  men- 
aces were  vain.  With  torments  and  death  in  immediate  pros- 
pect MacCallum  More  thought  far  less  of  himself  than  of  his 
poor  clansmen.  "I  was  busy  this  day,"  he  wrote  from  his 
cell,  "  treating  for  them,  and  in  some  hopes.  But  this  even- 
ing orders  came  that  I  must  die  upon  Monday  or  Tuesday ; 
and  I  am  to  be  put  to  the  torture  if  I  answer  not  all  questions 
upon  oath.  Yet  I  hope  God  shall  support  me." 

The  torture  was  not  inflicted.  Perhaps  the  magnanimity 
of  the  victim  had  moved  the  conquerors  to  unwonted  qom- 
passion.  He  himself  remarked  that  at  first  they  had  been 
very  harsh  to  him,  but  that  they  soon  began  to  treat  him  with 
respect  and  kindness.  God,  he  said,  had  melted  their  hearts. 
It  is  certain  that  he  did  not,  to  save  himself  from  the  utmost 
cruelty  of  his  enemies,  betray  any  of  his  friends.  On  the  last 
morning  of  his  life  he  wrote  these  words:  "I  have  named 
none  to  their  disadvantage.  I  thank  God  he  hath  supported 
me  wonderfully." 

He  composed  his  own  epitaph,  a  short  poem,  full  of  mean- 
ing and  spirit,  simple  and  forcible  in  style,  and  not  contempti- 
ble in  versification.  In  this  little  piece  he  complained  that, 
though  his  enemies  had  repeatedly  decreed  his  death,  his 
friends  had  been  still  more  cruel.  A  comment  on  these  ex- 
pressions is  to  be  found  in  a  letter  which  he  addressed  to 
a  lady  residing  in  Holland.  She  had  furnished  him  with  a 
large  sum  of  money  for  his  expedition,  and  he  thought  her  en- 
titled to  a  full  explanation  of  the  causes  which  had  led  to  his 
failure.  He  acquitted  his  coadjutors  of  treachery,  but  de- 
scribed their  folly,  their  ignorance,  ar.d  their  factious  perverse- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  513 

ness,  in  terms  which  their  own  testimony  has  since  proved  to 
have  been  richly  deserved.  He  afterward  doubted  whether 
he  had  not  used  language  too  severe  to  become  a  dying  Chris- 
tian, and,  in  a  separate  paper,  begged  his  friend  to  suppress 
what  he  had  said  of  these  men.  "  Only  this  I  must  acknowl- 
edge," he  mildly  added ;  "  they  were  not  governable." 

Most  of  his  few  remaining  hours  were  passed  in  devotion, 
and  in  affectionate  intercourse  with  some  members  of  his  fam- 
ily. He  professed  no  repentance  on  account  of  his  last  enter- 
prise, but  bewailed,  with  great  emotion,  his  former  compliance 
in  spiritual  things  wTith  the  pleasure  of  the  government.  He 
had,  he  said,  been  justly  punished.  One  who  had  so  long 
been  guilty  of  cowardice  and  dissimulation  was  not  worthy  to 
be  the  instrument  of  salvation  to  the  State  and  Church.  Yet 
the  cause,  he  frequently  repeated,  was  the  cause  of  God,  and 
would  assuredly  triumph.  "  I  do  not,"  he  said, "  take  on  my- 
self to  be  a  prophet.  But  I  have  a  strong  impression  on  my 
spirit  that  deliverance  will  come  very  suddenly."  It  is  not 
strange  that  some  zealous  Presbyterians  should  have  laid  up 
his  saying  in  their  hearts,  and  should,  at  a  later  period,  have 
attributed  it  to  divine  inspiration. 

So  effectually  had  religious  faith  and  hope,  co-operating 
with  natural  courage  and  equanimity,  composed  his  spirits, 
that,  on  the  very  day  on  which  he  was  to  die,  he  dined  with 
appetite,  conversed  with  gayety  at  table,  and,  after  his  last 
meal,  lay  down,  as  he  was  wont,  to  take  a  short  slumber,  in 
order  that  his  body  and  mind  might  be  in  full  vigor  when  he 
should  mount  the  scaffold.  At  this  time  one  of  the  Lords  of 
the  Council,  who  had  probably  been  bred  a  Presbyterian,  and 
had  been  seduced  by  interest  to  join  in  oppressing  the  Church 
of  which  he  had  once  been  a  member,  came  to  the  Castle  with 
a  message  from  his  brethren,  and  demanded  admittance  to  the 
Earl.  It  was  answered  that  the  Earl  was  asleep.  The  Privy 
Councillor  thought  that  this  was  a  subterfuge,  and  insisted  on 
entering.  The  door  of  the  cell  was  softly  opened ;  and  there 
lay  Argyle  on  the  bed,  sleeping,  in  his  irons,  the  placid  sleep 
of  infancy.  The  conscience  of  the  renegade  smote  him.  He 
turned  away  sick  at  heart,  ran  out  of  the  Castle,  and  took 

T          oo 
1. OO 


514  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

refuge  in  the  dwelling  of  a  lady  of  his  fami.y  who  lived  hard 
by.  There  he  flung  himself  on  a  couch,  and  gave  himself  up 
to  an  agony  of  remorse  and  shame.  His  kinswoman,  alarmed 
by  his  looks  and  groans,  thought  that  he  had  been  taken  with 
sudden  illness,  and  begged  him  to  drink  a  cup  of  sack.  "  No, 
no,"  he  said ;  "  that  will  do  me  no  good."  She  prayed  him 
to  tell  her  what  had  disturbed  him.  "  I  have  been,"  he  said, 
"  in  Argyle's  prison.  I  have  seen  him  within  an  hour  of  eter- 
nity, sleeping  as  sweetly  as  ever  man  did.  But  as  for  me — " 

And  now  the  Earl  had  risen  from  his  bed,  and  had  pre- 
pared himself  for  what  was  yet  to  be  endured.  He  was  first 
brought  down  the  High  Street  to  the  Council-house,  where 
he  was  to  remain  during  the  short  interval  which  was  still  to 
elapse  before  the  execution.  During  that  interval  he  asked 
for  pen  and  ink,  and  wrote  to  his  wife :  "  Dear  heart,  God  is 
unchangeable :  He  hath  always  been  good  and  gracious  to 
me ;  and  no  place  alters  it.  Forgive  me  all  my  faults ;  and 
now  comfort  thyself  in  Him,  in  whom  only  true  comfort  is  to 
be  found.  The  Lord  be  with  thee,  bless  and  comfort  thee, 
my  dearest.  Adieu." 

It  was  now  time  to  leave  the  Council-house.     The  divines 

who  attended  the  prisoner  were  not  of  his  own  persuasion ; 

but  he  listened  to  them  with  civility,  and  exhorted 

His  execution.  .  .  .  . 

them  to  caution  their  nocks  against  those  doctrines 
which  all  Protestant  churches  unite  in  condemning.  He 
mounted  the  scaffold,  where  the  rude  old  guillotine  of  Scot- 
land, called  the  Maiden,  awaited  him,  and  addressed  the  peo- 
ple in  a  speech,  tinctured  with  the  peculiar  phraseology  of  his 
sect,  but  breathing  the  spirit  of  serene  piety.  His  enemies, 
he  said,  he  forgave,  as  he  hoped  to  be  forgiven.  Only  a  sin- 
gle acrimonious  expression  escaped  him.  One  of  the  episcopal 
clergymen  who  attended  him  went  to  the  edge  of  the  scaffold, 
and  called  out  in  a  loud  voice,  "  My  Lord  dies  a  Protestant." 
"  Yes,"  said  the  Earl,  stepping  forward,  "  and  not  only  a  Prot- 
estant, but  with  a  heart-hatred  of  Popery,  of  Prelacy,  and  of 
all  superstition."  He  then  embraced  his  friends,  put  into 
their  hands  some  tokens  of  remembrance  for  his  wife  and 
children,  kneeled  down,  laid  his  head  on  the  block,  prayed 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  515 

during  a  few  minutes,  and  gave  the  signal  to  the  executioner. 
His  head  was  fixed  on  the  top  of  the  Tolbooth,  where  the 
head  of  Montrose  had  formerly  decayed.* 

The  head  of  the  brave  and  sincere,  though  not  blameless 
Rumbold,  was  already  on  the  West  Port  of  Edinburgh.  Sur- 
Kxecution  of  rounded  by  factious  and  cowardly  associates,  he 
itumboid.  kad,  through  the  whole  campaign,  behaved  himself 
like  a  soldier  trained  in  the  school  of  the  great  Protector,  had 
in  council  strenuously  supported  the  authority  of  Argyle,  and 
had  in  the  field  been  distinguished  by  tranquil  intrepidity. 
After  the  dispersion  of  the  army  he  was  set  upon  by  a  party 
of  militia.  He  defended  himself  desperately,  and  would  have 
cut  his  way  through  them,  had  they  not  hamstringed  his  horse. 
He  was  brought  to  Edinburgh  mortally  wounded.  The  wish 
of  the  government  was  that  he  should  be  executed  in  England. 
But  he  was  so  near  death  that,  if  he  was  not  hanged  in  Scot- 
land, he  could  not  be  hanged  at  all ;  and  the  pleasure  of  hang- 
ing him  was  one  which  the  conquerors  could  not  bear  to 
forego.  It  was,  indeed,  not  to  be  expected  that  they  would 
show  much  lenity  to  one  who  was  regarded  as  the  chief  of 
the  Rye-house  Plot,  and  who  was  the  owner  of  the  building 
from  which  that  plot  took  its  name :  but  the  insolence  with 
which  they  treated  the  dying  man  seems  to  our  more  humane 
age  almost  incredible.  One  of  the  Scotch  Privy  Councillors 
told  him  that  he  was  a  confounded  villain.  "I  am  at  peace 
writh  God,"  answered  liumbold,  calmly ;  "  how  then  can  I  be 
confounded  ?" 

He  was  hastily  tried,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged 
and  quartered  within  a  few  hours,  near  the  City  Cross  in  the 

*  The  authors  from  whom  I  have  taken  the  history  of  Argyle's  expedition  are 
Sir  Patrick  Hume,  who  was  an  eye-witness  of  what  he  related,  and  Wodrow,  who 
had  access  to  materials  of  the  greatest  value,  among  which  were  the  Earl's  own 
papers.  Wherever  there  is  a  question  of  veracity  between  Argyle  and  Hume,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  Argyle's  narrative  ought  to  be  followed. 

See  also  Burnet,  i.,  631,  and  the  life  of  Bresson,  published  by  Dr.  MacCrie.  The 
account  of  the  Scotch  rebellion  in  the  Life  of  James  the  Second  is  a  ridiculous 
romance,  not  written  by  the  King  himself,  nor  derived  from  his  papers,  but  com- 
posed by  a  Jacobite  who  did  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  look  at  a  map  of  the 
seat  of  war. 


516  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

High  Street.  Though  unable  to  stand  without  the  support 
of  two  men,  he  maintained  his  fortitude  to  the  last,  and  under 
the  gibbet  raised  his  feeble  voice  against  Popery  and  tyranny 
with  such  vehemence  that  the  officers  ordered  the  drums  to 
strike  up,  lest  the  people  should  hear  him.  He  was  a  friend, 
he  said,  to  limited  monarchy.  But  he  never  would  believe 
that  Providence  had  sent  a  few  men  into  the  world  ready 
booted  and  spurred  to  ride,  and  millions  ready  saddled  and 
bridled  to  be  ridden.  "  I  desire,"  he  cried,  "  to  bless  and 
magnify  God's  holy  name  for  this,  that  I  stand  here,  not  for 
any  wrong  that  I  have  done,  but  for  adhering  to  his  cause  in 
an  evil  day.  If  every  hair  of  my  head  were  a  man,  in  this 
quarrel  I  would  venture  them  all." 

Both  at  his  trial  and  at  his  execution  he  spoke  of  assassina- 
tion with  the  abhorrence  which  became  a  good  Christian  and 
a  brave  soldier.  He  had  never,  he  protested,  on  the  faith  of 
a  dying  man,  harbored  the  thought  of  committing  such  villany. 
But  he  frankly  owned  that,  in  conversation  with  his  fellow- 
conspirators,  he  had  mentioned  his  own  house  as  a  place  where 
Charles  and  James  might  with  advantage  be  attacked,  and 
that  much  had  been  said  on  the  subject,  though  nothing  had 
been  determined.  It  may  at  first  sight  seem  that  this  ac- 
knowledgment is  inconsistent  with  his  declaration  that  he  had 
always  regarded  assassination  with  horror.  But  the  truth  ap- 
pears to  be  that  he  was  imposed  upon  by  a  distinction  wrhich 
deluded  many  of  his  contemporaries.  Nothing  would  have 
induced  him  to  put  poison  into  the  food  of  the  two  princes, 
or  to  poniard  them  in  their  sleep.  But  to  make  an  unex- 
pected onset  on  the  troop  of  Life  Guards  which  surrounded 
the  royal  coach,  to  exchange  sword-cuts  and  pistol-shots,  and 
to  take  the  chance  of  slaying  or  of  being  slain,  was,  in  his 
view,  a  lawful  military  operation.  Ambuscades  and  surprises 
were  among  the  ordinary  incidents  of  war.  Every  old  sol- 
dier, Cavalier  or  Roundhead,  had  been  engaged  in  such  en- 
terprises. If  in  the  skirmish  the  King  should  fall,  he  would 
fall  by  fair  fighting,  and  not  by  murder.  Precisely  the  same 
reasoning  was  employed,  after  the  Revolution,  by  James  him- 
self and  by  some  of  his  most  devoted  followers,  to  justify  a 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  517 

wicked  attempt  on  the  life  of  William  the  Third.  A  band  of 
Jacobites  was  commissioned  to  attack  the  Prince  of  Orange 
in  his  winter-quarters.  The  meaning  latent  under  this  spe- 
cious phrase  was  that  the  Prince's  throat  was  to  be  cut  as  he 
went  in  his  coach  from  Richmond  to  Kensington.  It  may 
seem  strange  that  such  fallacies,  the  dregs  of  the  Jesuitical 
casuistry,  should  have  had  power  to  seduce  men  of  heroic 
spirit,  both  Whigs  and  Tories,  into  a  crime  on  which  divine 
and  human  laws  have  justly  set  a  peculiar  note  of  infamy. 
But  no  sophism  is  too  gross  to  delude  minds  distempered  by 
party  spirit.* 

Argyle,  who  survived  Rumbold  a  few  hours,  left  a  dying 
testimony  to  the  virtues  of  the  gallant  Englishman.  "Poor 
Rumbold  was  a  great  support  to  me,  and  a  brave  man,  and 
died  Christianly.f 

Ayloffe  showed  as  much  contempt  of  death  as  either  Ar- 
gyle or  Rumbold  :  but  his  end  did  not,  like  theirs,  edify  pious 
Death  of  minds.  Though  political  sympathy  had  drawn  him 
Ayioffe.  toward  the  Puritans,  he  had  no  religious  sympathy 
with  them,  and  was  indeed  regarded  by  them  as  little  better 
than  an  atheist.  He  belonged  to  that  section  of  the  Whigs 
which  sought  for  models  rather  among  the  patriots  of  Greece 
and  Rome  than  among  the  prophets  and  judges  of  Israel. 
He  was  taken  prisoner,  and  carried  to  Glasgow.  There  he 
attempted  to  destroy  himself  with  a  small  penknife :  but 
though  he  gave  himself  several  wounds,  none  of  them  proved 
mortal,  and  he  had  strength  enough  left  to  bear  a  journey  to 


*  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  10 ;  Western  Martyrology ;  Burnet,  i.,  633 ;  Fox's  History, 
Appendix  IV.  I  can  find  no  way,  except  that  indicated  in  the  text,  of  reconciling 
Rumbold's  denial  that  he  had  ever  admitted  into  his  mind  the  thought  of  assassi- 
nation with  his  confession  that  he  had  himself  mentioned  his  own  house  as  a  con- 
venient place  for  an  attack  on  the  royal  brothers.  The  distinction  which  I  suppose 
him  to  have  taken  was  certainly  taken  by  another  Rye  House  conspirator,  who 
was,  like  him,  an  old  soldier  of  the  Commonwealth,  Captain  Walcot.  On  Walcot's 
trial,  West,  the  witness  for  the  crown,  said,  "  Captain,  you  did  agree  to  be  one  of 
those  that  were  to  fight  the  Guards."  "  What,  then,  was  the  reason,"  asked  Chief- 
justice  Pemberton,  "that  he  would  not  kill  the  King?"  "He  said,"  answered 
West,  "  that  it  was  a  base  thing  to  kill  a  naked  man,  and  he  would  not  do  it." 

f  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  9. 


518  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

London.  He  was  brought  before  the  Privy  Council,  and  in- 
terrogated by  the  King,  but  had  too  much  elevation  of  mind 
to  save  himself  by  informing  against  others.  A  story  was 
current  among  the  Whigs  that  the  King  said,  "  You  had  bet- 
ter be  frank  with  me,  Mr.  Ayloffe.  You  know  that  it  is  in 
my  power  to  pardon  you."  Then,  it  was  rumored,  the  captive 
broke  his  sullen  silence,  and  answered,  "  It  may  be  in  your 
power ;  but  it  is  not  in  your  nature."  He  was  executed  under 
his  old  outlawry  before  the  gate  of  the  Temple,  and  died  with 
stoical  composure.* 

In  the  mean  time  the  vengeance  of  the  conquerors  was  mer- 
cilessly wreaked  on  the  people  of  Argyleshire.  Many  of  the 
Devastation  of  Campbells  were  hanged  by  Athol  without  a  trial ; 
Argyieshire.  an(j  j^  wag  wjf;h  difficulty  restrained  by  the  Privy 
Council  from  taking  more  lives.  The  country  to  the  extent 
of  thirty  miles  round  Inverary  was  wasted.  Houses  were 
burned  :  the  stones  of  mills  were  broken  to  pieces :  fruit-trees 
were  cut  down,  and  the  very  roots  seared  with  fire.  The  nets 
and  fishing-boats,  the  sole  means  by  which  many  inhabitants 
of  the  coast  subsisted,  were  destroyed.  More  than  three  hun- 
dred rebels  and  malcontents  were  transported  to  the  colonies. 
Many  of  them  were  also  sentenced  to  mutilation.  On  a  single 
day  the  hangman  of  Edinburgh  cut  off  the  ears  of  thirty-five 
prisoners.  Several  women  were  sent  across  the  Atlantic  after 
being  first  branded  in  the  cheek  with  a  hot  iron.  It  was  even 
in  contemplation  to  obtain  an  act  of  Parliament  proscribing 
the  name  of  Campbell,  as  the  name  of  Macgregor  had  been 
proscribed  eighty  years  before.f 

Argyle's  expedition  appears  to  have  produced  little  sensa- 
tion in  the  south  of  the  island.  The  tidings  of  his  landing 
reached  London  just  before  the  English  Parliament  met. 
The  King  mentioned  the  news  from  the  throne ;  and  the 
Houses  assured  him  that  they  would  stand  by  him  against 
every  enemy.  Nothing  more  was  required  of  them.  Over 

*  Wade's  Narrative,  Harl.  MS.,  6845  ;  Burnet,  i.,  634 ;  Van  Citters'  Despatch  of 
NovT9~  1685 ;  LuttrelPs  Diary  of  the  same  date. 

f  Wodrow,  III.,  ix.,  4,  and  III.,  ix.,  10.  Wodrow  gives  from  the  Acts  of  Council 
the  names  of  all  the  prisoners  who  were  transported,  mutilated,  or  branded. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  519 

Scotland  they  had  no  authority ;  and  a  war  of  which  the  thea- 
tre was  so  distant,  and  of  which  the  event  might,  almost  from 
the  first,  be  easily  foreseen,  excited  only  a  languid  interest  in 
London. 

But,  a  week  before  the  final  dispersion  of  Argyle's  army, 
England  was  agitated  by  the  news  that  a  more  formidable  in- 
ineffectual  vader  had  landed  on  her  own  shores.  It  had  been 
prev"entSMon-  agreed  among  the  refugees  that  Monmouth  should 
teav'J/Hoi-  8ail  from  Holland  six  days  after  the  departure  of 
land-  the  Scots.  He  had  deferred  his  expedition  a  short 

time,  probably  in  the  hope  that  most  of  the  troops  in  the 
south  of  the  island  would  be  moved  to  the  north  as  soon  as 
war  broke  out  in  the  Highlands,  and  that  he  should  find  no 
force  ready  to  oppose  him.  When  at  length  he  was  desirous 
to  proceed,  the  wind  had  become  adverse  and  violent. 

While  his  small  fleet  lay  tossing  in  the  Texel,  a  contest  was 
going  on  among  the  Dutch  authorities.  The  States-general 
and  the  Prince  of  Orange  were  on  one  side,  the  Town  Conn- 

o  / 

cil  and  Admiralty  of  Amsterdam  on  the  other. 

Skelton  had  delivered  to  the  States -general  a  list  of  the 
refugees  whose  residence  in  the  United  Provinces  caused  un- 
easiness to  his  master.  The  States-general,  anxious  to  grant 
every  reasonable  request  which  James  could  make,  sent  copies 
of  the  list  to  the  provincial  authorities.  The  provincial  au- 
thorities sent  copies  to  the  municipal  authorities.  The  mag- 
istrates of  all  the  towns  were  directed  to  take  such  measures 
as  might  prevent  the  proscribed  Whigs  from  molesting  the 
English  government.  In  general  those  directions  were  obey- 
ed. At  Rotterdam  in  particular,  where  the  influence  of  Wil- 
liam was  all-powerful,  such  activity  was  shown  as  called  forth 
warm  acknowledgments  from  James.  But  Amsterdam  was 
the  chief  seat  of  the  emigrants ;  and  the  governing  body  of 
Amsterdam  would  see  nothing,  hear  nothing,  know  of  noth- 
ing. The  High  Bailiff  of  the  city,  who  was  himself  in  daily 
communication  with  Ferguson,  reported  to  the  Hague  that  he 
did  not  know  where  to  find  a  single  one  of  the  refugees  ;  and 
with  this  excuse  the  federal  government  was  forced  to  be 
content.  The  truth  was  that  the  English  exiles  were  as  well 


520  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

known  at  Amsterdam,  and  as  much  stared  at  in  the  streets,  as 
if  they  had  been  Chinese.* 

A  few  days  later,  Skelton  received  orders  from  his  court  to 
request  that,  in  consequence  of  the  dangers  which  threatened 
his  master's  throne,  the  three  Scotch  regiments  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  United  Provinces  might  be  sent  to  Great  Britain 
without  delay.  He  applied  to  the  Prince  of  Orange;  and 
the  prince  undertook  to  manage  the  matter,  but  predicted 
that  Amsterdam  would  raise  some  difficulty.  The  prediction 
proved  correct.  The  deputies  of  Amsterdam  refused  to  con- 
sent, and  succeeded  in  causing  some  delay.  But  the  question 
was  not  one  of  those  on  which,  by  the  constitution  of  the  re- 
public, a  single  city  could  prevent  the  wish  of  the  majority 
from  being  carried  into  effect.  The  influence  of  William  pre- 
vailed ;  and  the  troops  were  embarked  with  great  expedition.f 

Skelton  was  at  the  same  time  exerting  himself,  not  indeed 
very  judiciously  or  temperately,  to  stop  the  ships  which  the 
English  refugees  had  fitted  out.  He  expostulated  in  warm 
terms  with  the  Admiralty  of  Amsterdam.  The  negligence 
of  that  board,  he  said,  had  already  enabled  one  band  of  rebels 
to  invade  Britain.  For  a  second  error  of  the  same  kind  there 
could  be  no  excuse.  He  peremptorily  demanded  that  a  large 
vessel,  named  the  Helderenbergh,  might  be  detained.  It  was 


*  Skelton's  letter  is  dated  the  ^th  of  May,  1686.  It  will  be  found,  together 
with  a  letter  of  the  Schout  or  High  Bailiff  of  Amsterdam,  in  a  little  volume  pub- 
lished a  few  months  later,  and  entitled,  "  Histoire  des  Evenemens  Tragiques  d'An- 
gleterre."  The  documents  inserted  in  that  work  are,  as  far  as  I  have  examined 
them,  given  exactly  from  the  Dutch  archives,  except  that  Skelton's  French,  which 
was  not  the  purest,  is  slightly  corrected.  See  also  Grey's  Narrative. 

Goodenough,  on  his  examination  after  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor,  said,  "  The  Schout 
of  Amsterdam  was  a  particular  friend  to  this  last  design."  —  Lansdowne  MS.,  1152. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  refute  those  writers  who  represent  the  Prince  of  Orange 
as  an  accomplice  in  Monmouth's  enterprise.  The  circumstance  on  which  they 
chiefly  rely  is  that  the  authorities  of  Amsterdam  took  no  effectual  steps  for  pre- 
venting the  expedition  from  sailing.  This  circumstance  is  in  truth  the  strongest 
proof  that  the  expedition  was  not  favored  by  William.  No  person  not  profoundly 
ignorant  of  the  institutions  and  politics  of  Holland  would  hold  the  Stadtholder  an- 
swerable for  the  proceedings  of  the  heads  of  the  Loevestein  party. 

t  Avaux  Neg.,  June  ^,  T%,  £*,  1685  ;  Letter  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  to  Lord 
Rochester,  June  9,  1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  521 

pretended  that  this  vessel  was  bound  for  the  Canaries.  But, 
in  truth,  she  had  been  freighted  by  Monmouth,  carried  twenty- 
six  guns,  and  was  loaded  with  arms  and  ammunition.  The 
Admiralty  of  Amsterdam  replied  that  the  liberty  of  trade 
and  navigation  was  not  to  be  restrained  for  light  reasons,  and 
that  the  Helderenbergh  could  not  be  stopped  without  an  or- 
der from  the  States-general.  Skelton,  whose  uniform  practice 
seems  to  have  been  to  begin  at  the  wrong  end,  now  had  re- 
course to  the  States -general.  The  States -general  gave  the 
necessary  orders.  Then  the  Admiralty  of  Amsterdam  pre- 
tended that  there  was  not  a  sufficient  naval  force  in  the  Texel 
to  seize  so  large  a  ship  as  the  Helderenbergh,  and  suffered 
Monmouth  to  sail  unmolested.* 

The  weather  was  bad:  the  voyage  was  long;  and  several 
English  men-of-war  were  cruising  in  the  Channel.  But  Mon- 
mouth escaped  both  the  sea  and  the  enemy.  As  he  passed 
by  the  cliffs  of  Dorsetshire,  it  was  thought  desirable  to  send 
a  boat  to  the  beach  with  one  of  the  refugees  named  Thomas 
Dare.  This  man,  though  of  low  mind  and  manners,  had 
great  influence  at  Taunton.  He  was  directed  to  hasten 
thither  across  the  country,  and  to  apprise  his  friends  that 
Monmouth  would  soon  be  on  English  ground.f 

On  the  morning  of  the  eleventh  of  June  the  Helderen- 
bergh, accompanied  by  two  smaller  vessels,  appeared  off  the 
ms  arrival  POI>t  of  lyme.  That  town  is  a  small  knot  of  steep 
atLyme.  an(j  narrow-  alleys,  lying  on  a  coast  wild,  rocky,  and 
beaten  by  a  stormy  sea.  The  place  was  then  chiefly  remark- 
able for  a  pier  which,  in  the  days  of  the  Plantagenets,  had 
been  constructed  of  stones,  unhewn  and  uncemented.  This 
ancient  work,  known  by  the  name  of  the  Cob,  enclosed  the 
only  haven  where,  in  a  space  of  many  miles,  the  fishermen 
could  take  refuge  from  the  tempests  of  the  Channel. 

The  appearance  of  the  three  ships,  foreign  built  and  with- 

*  Van  Citters,  June  ^,  June  Jf,  1685.  The  correspondence  of  Skelton  with 
the  States-general  and  with  the  Admiralty  of  Amsterdam  is  in  the  archives  at  the 
Hague.  Some  pieces  will  be  found  in  the  Evenemens  Tragiques  d'Angleterre.  See 
also  Burnet,  i.,  640. 

f  Wade's  Confession  in  the  Hardwicke  Papers ;  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 


522  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

out  colors,  perplexed  the  inhabitants  of  Lyme ;  and  the  un- 
easiness increased  when  it  was  found  that  the  custom-house 
officers,  who  had  gone  on  board  according  to  usage,  did  not 
return.  The  town's-people  repaired  to  the  cliffs,  and  gazed 
long  and  anxiously,  but  could  find  no  solution  of  the  mystery. 
At  length  seven  boats  put  off  from  the  largest  of  the  strange 
vessels,  and  rowed  to  the  shore.  From  these  boats  landed 
about  eighty  men,  well  armed  and  appointed.  Among  them 
were  Monmouth,  Grey,  Fletcher,  Ferguson,  Wade,  and  An- 
thony Buyee,  an  officer  who  had  been  in  the  service  of  the 
Elector  of  Brandenburg.* 

Monmouth  commanded  silence,  kneeled  down  on  the  shore, 
thanked  God  for  having  preserved  the  friends  of  liberty  and 
pure  religion  from  the  perils  of  the  sea,  and  implored  the 
divine  blessing  on  what  was  yet  to  be  done  by  land.  He  then 
drew  his  sword  and  led  his  men  over  the  cliffs  into  the  town. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  under  what  leader  and  for  what 
purpose  the  expedition  came,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  populace 
burst  through  all  restraints.  The  little  town  was  in  an  up- 
roar with  men  running  to  and  fro,  and  shouting  "A  Mon- 
mouth !  a  Monmouth !  the  Protestant  religion !"  Meanwhile 
the  ensign  of  the  adventurers,  a  blue  flag,  was  set  up  in  the 
market-place.  The  military  stores  were  deposited  in  the 
town-hall ;  and  a  Declaration  setting  forth  the  objects  of  the 
expedition  was  read  from  the  Cross.f 

This  Declaration,  the  masterpiece  of  Ferguson's  genius,  was 
not  a  grave  manifesto  such  as  ought  to  be  put  forth  by  a 
His  Deck-  leader  drawing  the  sword  for  a  great  public  cause, 
ration.  ^ut  a  libel  of  the  lowest  class,  both  in  sentiment  and 
language.:}:  It  contained  many  undoubtedly  just  charges 
against  the  government.  But  these  charges  were  set  forth 


*  See  Buyse's  evidence  against  Monmouth  and  Fletcher  in  the  Collection  of 
State  Trials. 

}  Journals  of  the  House  of  Commons,  June  13,  1685  ;  Harl.  MS.,  6845  ;  Lans- 
downe  MS.,  1152. 

$  Burnet,  i.,  641 ;  Goodenough's  confession  in  theLansdowne  MS.,  1152.  Copies 
of  the  Declaration,  as  originally  printed,  are  very  rare ;  but  there  is  one  in  the 
British  Museum. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  523 

in  the  prolix  and  inflated  style  of  a  bad  pamphlet ;  and  the 
paper  contained  other  charges  of  which  the  whole  disgrace 
falls  on  those  who  made  them.  The  Duke  of  York,  it  was 
positively  affirmed,  had  burned  down  London,  had  strangled 
Godfrey,  had  cut  the  throat  of  Essex,  and  had  poisoned  the 
late  King.  On  account  of  those  villanous  and  unnatural 
crimes,  but  chiefly  of  that  execrable  fact,  the  late  horrible  and 
barbarous  parricide — such  was  the  copiousness  and  such  the 
felicity  'of  Ferguson's  diction — James  was  declared  a  mortal 
and  bloody  enemy,  a  tyrant,  a  murderer,  and  a  usurper.  No 
treaty  should  be  made  with  him.  The  sword  should  not  be 
sheathed  till  he  had  been  brought  to  condign  punishment  as 
a  traitor.  The  government  should  be  settled  on  principles 
favorable  to  liberty.  All  Protestant  sects  should  be  tolera- 
ted. The  forfeited  charters  should  be  restored.  Parliament 
should  be  held  annually,  and  should  no  longer  be  prorogued 
or  dissolved  by  royal  caprice.  The  only  standing  force  should 
be  the  militia :  the  militia  should  be  commanded  by  the  Sher- 
iffs ;  and  the  Sheriffs  should  be  chosen  by  the  freeholders. 
Finally  Monmouth  declared  that  he  could  prove  himself  to 
have  been  born  in  lawful  wedlock,  and  to  be,  by  right  of 
blood,  King  of  England,  but  that,  for  the  present,  he  waived 
his  claims,  that  he  would  leave  them  to  the  judgment  of  a 
free  Parliament,  and  that,  in  the  mean  time,  he  desired  to  be 
considered  only  as  the  Captain-general  of  the  English  Protes- 
tants who  were  in  arms  against  tyranny  and  Popery. 

Disgraceful  as  this  manifesto  was  to  those  who  put  it  forth, 

it  was  not  unskilfully  framed  for  the  purpose  of  stimulating 

the  passions  of  the  vulgar.     In  the  West  the  effect 

His  popularity 

in  the  west  of  was  great,     ihe  gentrv  and  clergy  of  that  part  of 

England.  to  .     »  -  ?       , 

.England  were  indeed,  with  lew  exceptions,  lories. 
But  the  yeomen,  the  traders  of  the  towns,  the  peasants,  and  the 
artisans  were  generally  animated  by  the  old  Roundhead  spirit. 
Many  of  them  were  Dissenters,  and  had  been  goaded  by  petty 
persecution  into  a  temper  fit  for  desperate  enterprise.  The 
great  mass  of  the  population  abhorred  Popery  and  adored 
Monmouth.  He  was  no  stranger  to  them.  His  progress 
through  Somersetshire  and  Devonshire  in  the  summer  of  1680 


524  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

was  still  fresh  in  the  memory  of  all  men.  He  was  on  that  oc- 
casion sumptuously  entertained  by  Thomas  Thynne  at  Long- 
leat  Hall,  then,  and  perhaps  still,  the  most  magnificent  country 
house  in  England.  From  Longleat  to  Exeter  the  hedges  were 
lined  with  shouting  spectators.  The  roads  were  strewn  with 
boughs  and  flowers.  The  multitude,  in  their  eagerness  to  see 
and  touch  their  favorite,  broke  down  the  palings  of  parks, 
and  besieged  the  mansions  where  he  was  feasted.  When  he 
reached  Chard  his  escort  consisted  of  five  thousand  horsemen. 
At  Exeter  all  Devonshire  had  been  gathered  together  to  wel- 
come him.  One  striking  part  of  the  show  was  a  company 
of  nine  hundred  young  men  who,  clad  in  a  white  uniform, 
marched  before  him  into  the  city.*  The  turn  of  fortune 
which  had  alienated  the  gentry  from  his  cause  had  produced 
no  effect  on  the  common  people.  To  them  he  was  still  the 
good  Duke,  the  Protestant  Duke,  the  rightful  heir  whom  a 
vile  conspiracy  kept  out  of  his  own.  They  came  to  his  stand- 
ard in  crowds.  All  the  clerks  whom  he  could  employ  were 
too  few  to  take  down  the  names  of  the  recruits.  Before  he 
had  been  twenty -four  hours  on  English  ground  he  was  at 
the  head  of  fifteen  hundred  men.  Dare  arrived  from  Taun- 
ton  with  forty  horsemen  of  no  very  martial  appearance,  and 
brought  encouraging  intelligence  as  to  the  state  of  public 
feeling  in  Somersetshire.  As  yet  all  seemed  to  promise  well.f 

But  a  force  was  collecting  at  Bridport  to  oppose  the  insur- 
gents. On  the  thirteenth  of  June  the  red  regiment  of  Dor- 
setshire militia  came  pouring  into  that  town.  The  Somer- 
setshire, or  yellow  regiment,  of  which  Sir  William  Portman, 
a  Tory  gentleman  of  great  note,  was  colonel,  was  expected  to 
arrive  on  the  following  day4  The  Duke  determined  to  strike 
an  immediate  blow.  A  detachment  of  his  troops  was  prepar- 
ing to  march  to  Bridport  when  a  disastrous  event  threw  the 
whole  camp  into  confusion. 

Fletcher  of  Saltoun  had  been  appointed  to  command  the 

*  Historical  Account  of  the  Life  and  magnanimous  Actions  of  the  most  illustri- 
ous Protestant  Prince  James,  Duke  of  Monmouth,  1683. 

f  Wade's  Confession,  Hardwicke  Papers ;  Axe  Papers ;  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 
$  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  525 

cavalry  under  Grey.  Fletcher  was  ill  mounted  ;  and  indeed 
there  were  few  chargers  in  the  camp  which  had  not  been  taken 
from  the  plough.  When  he  was  ordered  to  Bridport,  he 
thought  that  the  exigency  of  the  case  warranted  him  in  bor- 
rowing, without  asking  permission,  a  fine  horse  belonging  to 
Dare.  Dare  resented  this  liberty,  and  assailed  Fletcher  with 
gross  abuse.  Fletcher  kept  his  temper  better  than  any  one 
who  knew  him  expected.  At  last  Dare,  presuming  on  the  pa- 
tience with  which  his  insolence  had  been  endured,  ventured 
to  shake  a  switch  at  the  high-born  and  high-spirited  Scot. 
Fletcher's  blood  boiled.  He  drew  a  pistol  and  shot  Dare 
dead.  Such  sudden  and  violent  revenge  would  not  have  been 
thought  strange  in  Scotland,  where  the  law  had  always  been 
weak,  where  he  who  did  not  right  himself  by  the  strong  hand 
was  not  likely  to  be  righted  at  all,  and  where,  consequently, 
human  life  was  held  almost  as  cheap  as  in  the  worst  governed 
provinces  of  Italy.  But  the  people  of  the  southern  part  of 
the  island  were  not  accustomed  to  see  deadly  weapons  used 
and  blood  spilled  on  account  of  a  rude  word  or  gesture,  except 
in  duel  between  gentlemen  with  equal  arms.  There  was  a 
general  cry  for  vengeance  on  the  foreigner  who  had  murder- 
ed an  Englishman.  Monmouth  could  not  resist  the  clamor. 
Fletcher,  who.  when  his  first  burst  of  rage  had  spent  itself, 
was  overwhelmed  with  remorse  and  sorrow,  took  refuge  on 
board  of  the  Helderenbergh,  escaped  to  the  Continent,  and 
repaired  to  Hungary,  where  he  fought  bravely  against  the 
common  enemy  of  Christendom.'* 

Situated  as  the  insurgents  were,  the  loss  of  a  man  of  parts 
and  energy  was  not  easily  to  be  repaired.  Early  on  the  morn- 
Encounter  of  *ng  °^  *ue  f  ollowing  day,  the  fourteenth  of  June, 


the  mmtfaTtth  Grey,  accompanied  by  Wade,  marched  with  about 
Bridport.  £ve  hundred  men  to  attack  Bridport.  A  confused 
and  indecisive  action  took  place,  such  as  was  to  be  expected 
when  two  bands  of  ploughmen,  officered  by  country  gentle- 
men and  barristers,  were  opposed  to  each  other.  For  a  time 


*  Buyse's  evidence  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials ;  Burnet,  i.,  642 ;  Ferguson'? 
MS.,  quoted  by  Eachard. 


526  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

Monmouth's  men  drove  the  militia  before  them.  Then  the 
militia  made  a  stand,  and  Monmouth's  men  retreated  in  some 
confusion.  Grey  and  his  cavalry  never  stopped  till  they  were 
safe  at  Lyme  again ;  but  Wade  rallied  the  infantry,  and 
brought  them  off  in  good  order.* 

There  was  a  violent  outcry  against  Grey ;  and  some  of  the 
adventurers  pressed  Monmouth  to  take  a  severe  course.  Mon- 
mouth,  however,  would  not  listen  to  this  advice.  His  lenity 
has  been  attributed  by  some  writers  to  his  good-nature,  which 
undoubtedly  often  amounted  to  weakness.  Others  have  sup- 
posed that  he  was  unwilling  to  deal  harshly  with  the  only 
peer  who  served  in  his  army.  It  is  probable,  however,  that 
the  Duke,  who,  though  not  a  general  of  the  highest  order,  un- 
derstood war  very  much  better  than  the  preachers  and  law- 
yers who  were  always  obtruding  their  advice  on  him,  made 
allowances  which  people  altogether  inexpert  in  military  affairs 
never  thought  of  making.  In  justice  to  a  man  who  has  had 
few  defenders,  it  must  be  observed  that  the  task  which, 
throughout  this  campaign,  was  assigned  to  Grey,  was  one 
which,  if  he  had  been  the  boldest  and  most  skilful  of  soldiers, 
he  could  scarcely  have  performed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  gain 
credit.  He  was  at  the  head  of  the  cavalry.  It  is  notorious 
that  a  horse-soldier  requires  a  longer  training  than  a  foot-sol- 
dier, and  that  the  war-horse  requires  a  longer  training  than 
his  rider.  Something  may  be  done  with  a  raw  infantry  which 
has  enthusiasm  and  animal  courage :  but  nothing  can  be  more 
helpless  than  a  raw  cavalry,  consisting  of  yeomen  and  trades- 
men mounted  on  cart-horses  and  po?t-horses;  and  such  was 
the  cavalry  which  Grey  commanded.  The  wonder  is,  not  that 
his  men  did  not  stand  fire  with  resolution,  not  that  they  did 
not  use  their  weapons  with  vigor,  but  that  they  were  able  to 
keep  their  seats. 

Still,  recruits  came  in  by  hundreds.  Arming  and  drilling 
went  on  all  day.  Meantime  the  news  of  the  insurrection  had 
spread  fast  and  wide.  On  the  evening  on  which  the  Duke 
landed,  Gregory  Alford,  Mayor  of  Lyme,  a  zealous  Tory,  and 

*  London  Gazette,  June  18,  1685  ;  Wade's  Confession,  Hardwicke  Papers. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  527 

a  bitter  persecutor  of  Non-conformists,  sent  off  his  servants 
to  give  the  alarm  to  the  gentry  of  Somersetshire  and  Dorset- 
shire, and  himself  took  horse  for  the  "West.  Late  at  night  he 
stopped  at  Honiton,  and  thence  despatched  a  few  hurried  lines 
to  London  with  the  ill  tidings.*  He  then  pushed  on  to  Exeter, 
where  he  found  Christopher  Monk,  Duke  of  Albemarle.  This 
nobleman,  the  son  and  heir  of  George  Monk,  the  restorer  of  the 
Stuarts,  was  Lord-lieutenant  of  Devonshire,  and  was  then  hold- 
ing a  muster  of  militia.  Four  thousand  men  of  the  trainbands 
were  actually  assembled  under  his  command.  He  seems  to 
have  thought  that,  with  this  force,  he  should  be  able  at  once 
to  crush  the  rebellion.  He  therefore  marched  toward  Lyme. 

But  when,  on  the  afternoon  of  Monday  the  fifteenth  of 
June,  he  reached  Axminster,  he  found  the  insurgents  drawn 
Encounter  of  UP  there  to  encounter  him.  They  presented  a  res- 
the  miiit'iaTth  olute  fi'ont.  Four  field-pieces  were  pointed  against 
Axminster.  fae  rovai  troops.  The  thick  hedges,  which  on  each 
side  overhung  the  narrow  lanes,  were  lined  with  musketeers. 
Albemarle,  however,  was  less  alarmed  by  the  preparations  of 
the  enemy  than  by  the  spirit  which  appeared  in  his  own  ranks. 
Such  was  Monmouth's  popularity  among  the  common  people 
of  Devonshire  that,  if  once  the  trainbands  had  caught  sight 
of  his  well-known  face  and  figure,  they  would  probably  have 
gone  over  to  him  in  a  body. 

Albemarle,  therefore,  though  he  had  a  great  superiority  of 
force,  thought  it  advisable  to  retreat.  The  retreat  soon  be- 
came a  rout.  The  whole  country  was  strewn  with  the  arms 
and  uniforms  which  the  fugitives  had  thrown  away ;  and,  had 
Monmouth  urged  the  pursuit  with  vigor,  he  would  probably 
have  taken  Exeter  without  a  blow.  But  he  was  satisfied  with 
the  advantage  which  he  had  gained,  and  thought  it  desirable 
that  his  recruits  should  be  better  trained  before  they  were 
employed  in  any  hazardous  service.  He  therefore  marched 
toward  Taunton,  where  he  arrived  on  the  eighteenth  of  June, 
exactly  a  week  after  his  landing,  f 

*  Lords'  Journals,  June  13,  1685. 

t  Wade's  Confession  ;  Ferguson  MS. ;  Axe  Papers,  Harl.  MS.,  6845  ;  Oldmixon, 
701, 702.  Oldmixon,  who  was  then  a  boy,  lived  very  near  the  scene  of  these  events. 


528  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

The  Court  and  the  Parliament  had  been  greatly  moved  by 
the  news  from  the  West.     At  five  in  the  morning  of  Sat- 
urday the  thirteenth  of  June,  the  Kin£  had  re- 
News  of  there-        .11        i  1-11       -»r  f-r 

beiiion  carried  ceived  the  letter  which  the  Mayor  of  Lyrne  had 
despatched  from  Honiton.  The  Privy  Council 
was  instantly  called  together.  Orders  were  given  that  the 
strength  of  every  company  of  infantry  and  of  every  troop  of 
cavalry  should  be  increased.  Commissions  were  issued  for 
the  levying  of  new  regiments.  Alford's  communication  was 
i.oyaity  of  the  ^a^  before  the  Lords ;  and  its  substance  was  com- 
I'ariiament.  municatcd  to  the  Commons  by  a  message.  The 
Commons  examined  the  couriers  who  had  arrived  from  the 
West,  and  instantly  ordered  a  bill  to  be  brought  in  for  attaint- 
ing Monmouth  of  high  treason.  Addresses  were  voted  as- 
suring the  King  that  both  his  peers  and  his  people  were  de- 
termined to  stand  by  him  with  life  and  fortune  against  all  his 
enemies.  At  the  next  meeting  of  the  Houses  they  ordered 
the  declaration  of  the  rebels  to  be  burned  by  the  hangman, 
and  passed  the  bill  of  attainder  through  all  its  stages.  That 
bill  received  the  royal  assent  on  the  same  day ;  and  a  reward 
of  five  thousand  pounds  was  promised  for  the  apprehension  of 
Monmouth.* 

The  fact  that  Monmouth  was  in  arms  against  the  govern- 
ment was  so  notorious  that  the  bill  of  attainder  became  a  law 
with  only  a  faint  show  of  opposition  from  one  or  two  peers, 
and  has  seldom  been  severely  censured  even  by  Whig  histori- 
ans. Yet,  when  we  consider  how  important  it  is  that  legisla- 
tive and  judicial  functions  should  be  kept  distinct,  how  im- 
portant it  is  that  common  fame,  however  strong  and  general, 
should  not  be  received  as  a  legal  proof  of  guilt,  how  impor- 
tant it  is  to  maintain  the  rule  that  no  man  shall  be  condemned 
to  death  without  an  opportunity  of  defending  himself,  and 
how  easily  and  speedily  breaches  in  great  principles,  when 
once  made,  are  widened,  we  shall  probably  be  disposed  to 
think  that  the  course  taken  by  the  Parliament  was  o.pen  to 

*  London  Gazette,  June  18,  1685;  Lords'  and  Commons'  Journals,  June  13  and 
15 ;  Dutch  Despatch,  June  ^|. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  529 

some  objection.  Neither  House  had  before  it  anything  which 
even  so  corrupt  a  judge  as  Jeffreys  could  have  directed  a  jury 
to  consider  as  proof  of  Monmouth's  crime.  The  messengers 
examined  by  the  Commons  were  not  on  oath,  and  might  there- 
fore have  related  mere  fictions  without  incurring  the  penal- 
ties of  perjury.  The  Lords,  who  might  have  administered  an 
oath,  appear  not  to  have  examined  any  witness,  and  to  have 
had  no  evidence  before  them  except  the  letter  of  the  Mayor 
of  Lyme,  which,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  was  no  evidence  at  all. 
Extreme  danger,  it  is  true,  justifies  extreme  remedies.  But 
the  Act  of  Attainder  was  a  remedy  which  could  not  operate 
till  all  danger  was  over,  and  which  would  become  superfluous 
at  the  very  moment  at  which  it  ceased  to  be  null.  While 
Monmouth  wras  in  arms  it  was  impossible  to  execute  him. 
If  he  should  be  vanquished  and  taken,  there  would  be  no 
hazard  and  no  difficulty  in  trying  him.  It  was  afterward  re- 
membered as  a  curious  circumstance  that,  among  the  zealous 
Tories  who  went  up  with  the  bill  from  the  House  of  Com- 
mons to  the  bar  of  the  Lords,  was  Sir  John  Fenwick,  member 
for  Northumberland.  This  gentleman,  a  few  years  later,  had 
occasion  to  reconsider  the  whole  subject,  and  then  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  acts  of  attainder  are  altogether  unjustifiable.* 
The  Parliament  gave  other  proofs  of  loyalty  in  this  hour 
of  peril.  The  Commons  authorized  the  King  to  raise  an  ex- 
traordinary sum  of  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  for  his 
present  necessities,  and,  that  he  might  have  no  difficulty  in 
finding  the  money,  proceeded  to  devise  new  imposts.  The 
scheme  of  taxing  houses  lately  built  in  the  capital  was  revived 
and  strenuously  supported  by  the  country  gentlemen.  It  was 
resolved  not  only  that  such  houses  should  be  taxed,  but  that  a 
bill  should  be  brought  in  prohibiting  the  laying  of  any  new 
foundations  within  the  bills  of  mortality.  The  resolution, 
however,  was  not  carried  into  effect.  Powerful  men  who  had 
land  in  the  suburbs,  and  who  hoped  to  see  new  streets  and 
squares  rise  on  their  estates,  exerted  all  their  influence  against 

*  Oldmixon  is  wrong  in  saying  that  Fenwick  carried  up  the  bill.  It  was  carried 
up,  as  appears  from  the  Journal?,  by  Lord  Ancram.  See  Delamere's  Observations 
on  the  Attainder  of  the  late  Duke  of  Monmouth. 

I.— 34 


530  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  V. 

the  project.  It  was  found  that  to  adjust  the  details  would 
be  a  work  of  time ;  and  the  King's  wants  were  so  pressing 
that  he  thought  it  necessary  to  quicken  the  movements  of  the 
House  by  a  gentle  exhortation  to  speed.  The  plan  of  taxing 
buildings  was  therefore  relinquished ;  and  new  duties  were 
imposed  for  a  term  of  five  years  on  foreign  silks,  linens,  and 
spirits.* 

The  Tories  of  the  Lower  House  proceeded  to  introduce 
what  they  called  a  bill  for  the  preservation  of  the  King's  per- 
son and  government.  They  proposed  that  it  should  be  high 
treason  to  say  that  Monmouth  was  legitimate,  to  utter  any 
words  tending  to  bring  the  person  or  government  of  the  sov- 
ereign into  hatred  or  contempt,  or  to  make  any  motion  in 
Parliament  for  changing  the  order  of  succession.  Some  of 
these  provisions  excited  general  disgust  and  alarm.  The 
Whigs,  few  and  weak  as  they  were,  attempted  to  rally,  and 
found  themselves  re-enforced  by  a  considerable  number  of 
moderate  and  sensible  Cavaliers.  Words,  it  was  said,  may 
easily  be  misunderstood  by  a  dull  man.  They  may  easily  be 
misconstrued  by  a  knave.  What  was  spoken  metaphorically 
may  be  apprehended  literally.  What  was  spoken  ludicrously 
may  be  apprehended  seriously.  "  A  particle,  a  tense,  a  mood, 
an  emphasis,  may  make  the  whole  difference  between  guilt 
and  innocence.  The  Saviour  of  mankind  himself,  in  whose 
blameless  life  malice  could  find  no  act  to  impeach,  had  been 
called  in  question  for  words  spoken.  False  witnesses  had 
suppressed  a  syllable  which  would  have  made  it  clear  that 
those  words  were  figurative,  and  had  thus  furnished  the  San- 
hedrim with  a  pretext  under  which  the  foulest  of  all  judicial 
murders  had  been  perpetrated.  With  such  an  example  on 
record,  who  could  affirm  that,  if  mere  talk  were  made  a  sub- 
stantive treason,  the  most  loyal  subject  would  be  safe  ?  These 
arguments  produced  so  great  an  effect  that  in  the  committee 
amendments  were  introduced  which  greatly  mitigated  the 
severity  of  the  bill.  But  the  clause  which  made  it  high  trea- 
son in  a  member  of  Parliament  to  propose  the  exclusion  of  a 

*  Commons'  Journals  of  June  17, 18,  and  19,  1685 ;  Rercsby's  Memoirs. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  531 

prince  of  tlie  blood  seems  to  have  raised  no  debate,  and  was 
retained.  That  clause  was  indeed  altogether  unimportant, 
except  as  a  proof  of  the  ignorance  and  inexperience  of  the 
hot-headed  Royalists  who  thronged  the  House  of  Commons. 
Had  they  learned  the  first  rudiments  of  legislation,  they  would 
have  known  that  the  enactment  to  which  they  attached  so 
much  value  would  be  superfluous  while  the  Parliament  was 
disposed  to  maintain  the  order  of  succession,  and  would  be 
repealed  as  soon  as  there  was  a  Parliament  bent  on  changing 
the  order  of  succession.* 

The  bill,  as  amended,  was  passed  and  carried  up  to  the 
Lords,  but  did  not  become  law.  The  King  had  obtained  from 
the  Parliament  all  the  pecuniary  assistance  that  he  could  ex- 
pect ;  and  he  conceived  that,  while  rebellion  was  actually 
raging,  the  loyal  nobility  and  gentry  would  be  of  more  use 
in  their  counties  than  at  Westminster.  He  therefore  hurried 
their  deliberations  to  a  close,  and,  on  the  second  of  July,  dis- 
missed them.  On  the  same  day  the  royal  assent  was  given 
to  a  law  reviving  that  censorship  of  the  press  which  had  ter- 
minated in  1679.  This  object  was  effected  by  a  few  words  at 
the  end  of  a  miscellaneous  statute  which  continued  several  ex- 
piring acts.  The  courtiers  did  not  think  that  they  had  gained 
a  triumph.  The  Whigs  did  not  utter  a  murmur.  Neither 
in  the  Lords  nor  in  the  Commons  was  there  any  division,  or 
even,  as  far  as  can  now  be  learned,  any  debate  on  a  question 
which  would,  in  our  age,  convulse  the  whole  frame  of  society. 
In  truth,  the  change  was  slight  and  almost  imperceptible ;  for. 
since  the  detection  of  the  Rye-house  Plot,  the  liberty  of  un- 
licensed printing  had  existed  only  in  name.  During  many 
months  scarcely  one  Whig  pamphlet  had  been  published 
except  by  stealth ;  and  by  stealth  such  pamphlets  might  be 
published  still. f 

*  Commons'  Journals,  June  19,  29,  1685;  Lord  Lonsdale's  Memoirs,  8,  9;  Bur- 
net,  i.,  639.  The  bill,  as  amended  by  the  committee,  will  be  found  in  Mr.  Fox's 
historical  work,  Appendix  III.  If  Burnet's  account  be  correct,  the  offences,  which, 
by  the  amended  bill,  were  made  punishable  only  with  civil  incapacities,  were,  by 
the  original  bill,  made  capital. 

t  1  Jac.  II.,  c.  17 ;  Lords'  Journals,  July  2,  1685. 


532  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

The  Houses  then  rose.  They  were  not  prorogued,  but  only 
adjourned,  in  order  that,  when  they  should  reassemble,  they 
might  take  up  their  business  in  the  exact  state  in  which  they 
had  left  it.* 

While  the  Parliament  was  devising  sharp  laws  against  Mon- 

mouth  and  his  partisans,  he  found  at  Taunton  a  reception 

which  might  well  encourage  him  to  hope  that  his 

Reception  of  .     l  •  m 

Monmouthat    enterprise  would  have  a  prosperous  issue,     laun- 

Taunton.  *  «        i  r  T-I 

ton,  like  most  other  towns  in  the  south  of  .England, 
was,  in  that  age,  more  important  than  at  present.  Those 
towns  have  not  indeed  declined.  On  the  contrary,  they  are, 
with  very  few  exceptions,  larger  and  richer,  better  built  and 
better  peopled,  than  in  the  seventeenth  century.  But,  though 
they  have  positively  advanced,  they  have  relatively  gone  back. 
They  have  been  far  outstripped  in  wealth  and  population  by 
the  great  manufacturing  and  commercial  cities  of  the  north, 
cities  which,  in  the  time  of  the  Stuarts,  were  but  beginning 
to  be  known  as  seats  of  industry.  When  Monmouth  marched 
into  Taunton  it  was  an  eminently  prosperous  place.  Its  mar- 
kets were  plentifully  supplied.  It  was  a  celebrated  seat  of 
the  woollen  manufacture.  The  people  boasted  that  they  lived 
in  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  Nor  was  this  lan- 
guage held  only  by  partial  natives ;  for  every  stranger  who 
climbed  the  graceful  tower  of  Saint  Mary  Magdalene  owned 
that  he  saw  beneath  him  the  most  fertile  of  English  valleys. 
It  was  a  country  rich  with  orchards  and  green  pastures,  among 
which  were  scattered,  in  gay  abundance,  manor-houses,  cot- 
tages, and  village  spires.  The  townsmen  had  long  leaned  to- 
ward Presbyterian  divinity  and  Whig  politics.  In  the  great 
civil  war  Taunton  had,  through  all  vicissitudes,  adhered  to  the 
Parliament,  had  been  twice  closely  besieged  by  Goring,  and 
had  been  twice  defended  with  heroic  valor  by  Robert  Blake, 
afterward  the  renowned  Admiral  of  the  Commonwealth. 
Whole  streets  had  been  burned  down  by  the  mortars  and 
grenades  of  the  Cavaliers.  Food  had  been  so  scarce  that  the 
resolute  governor  had  announced  his  intention  of  putting  the 

*  Lords'  and  Commons'  Journals,  July  2, 1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  533 

garrisoTi  on  rations  of  horse-flesh.  But  the  spirit  of  the  town 
had  never  been  subdued  either  by  fire  or  by  hunger.* 

The  Restoration  had  produced  no  effect  on  the  temper  of 
the  Taunton  men.  They  had  still  continued  to  celebrate  the 
anniversary  of  the  happy  day  on  which  the  siege  laid  to  their 
town  by  the  royal  army  had  been  raised ;  and  their  stubborn 
attachment  to  the  old  cause  had  excited  so  much  fear  and 
resentment  at  Whitehall  that,  by  a  royal  order,  their  moat  had 
been  filled  up,  and  their  wall  demolished  to  the  foundation.! 
The  puritanical  spirit  had  been  kept  up  to  the  height  among 
them  by  the  precepts  and  example  of  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated of  the  dissenting  clergy,  Joseph  Alleine.  Alleine  was 
the  author  of  a  tract,  entitled  An  Alarm  to  the  Unconverted, 
which  is  still  popular  both  in  England  and  in  America.  From 
the  jail  to  which  he  was  consigned  by  the  victorious  Cava- 
liers, he  addressed  to  his  loving  friends  at  Taunton  many 
epistles  breathing  the  spirit  of  a  truly  heroic  piety.  His 
frame  soon  sank  under  the  effects  of  study,  toil,  and  perse- 
cution :  but  his  memory  was  long  cherished  with  exceed- 
ing love  and  reverence  by  those  whom  he  had  exhorted  and 
catechised.:]: 

The  children  of  the  men  who,  forty  years  before,  had 
manned  the  ramparts  of  Taunton  against  the  Royalists,  now 
welcomed  Monmouth  with  transports  of  joy  and  affection. 
Every  door  and  window  was  adorned  with  wreaths  of  flow- 
ers. No  man  appeared  in  the  streets  without  wearing  in  his 
hat  a  green  bough,  the  badge  of  the  popular  cause.  Damsels 
of  the  best  families  in  the  town  wove  colors  for  the  insur- 
gents. One  flag  in  particular  was  embroidered  gorgeously 
with  emblems  of  royal  dignity,  and  was  offered  to  Monmouth 
by  a  train  of  young  girls.  He  received  the  gift  with  the 
winning  courtesy  wThich  distinguished  him.  The  lady  who 
headed  the  procession  presented  him  also  with  a  small  Bible 
of  great  price.  He  took  it  with  a  show  of  reverence.  "  I 


*  Savage's  edition  of  Toulmin's  History  of  Taunton. 

f  Sprat's  True  Account ;  Toulmin's  History  of  Taunton. 

J  Life  and  Death  of  Joseph  Alleine,  1672 ;  Non-conformists'  Memorial. 


534  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

come,"  he  said,  "  to  defend  the  truths  contained  in  this  book, 
and  to  seal  them,  if  it  must  be  so.  with  my  blood."* 

But,  while  Monmouth  enjoyed  the  applause  of  the  multi- 
tude, he  could  not  but  perceive,  with  concern  and  apprehen- 
sion, that  the  higher  classes  were,  with  scarcely  an  exception, 
hostile  to  his  undertaking,  and  that  no  rising  had  taken  place 
except  in  the  counties  where  he  had  himself  appeared.  He 
had  been  assured  by  agents,  who  professed  to  have  derived 
their  information  from  Wildman,  that  the  whole  Whig  aris- 
tocracy was  eager  to  take  arms.  Nevertheless  more  than  a 
week  had  now  elapsed  since  the  blue  standard  had  been  set 
up  at  Lyme.  Day-laborers,  small  farmers,  shopkeepers,  ap- 
prentices, dissenting  preachers,  had  flocked  to  the  rebel  camp ; 
but  not  a  single  peer,  baronet,  or  knight,  not  a  single  member 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  scarcely  any  esquire  of  suffi- 
cient note  to  have  ever  been  in  the  commission  of  the  peace, 
had  joined  the  invaders.  Ferguson,  who,  ever  since  the  death 
of  Charles,  had  been  Monmouth's  evil  angel,  had  a  suggestion 
ready.  The  Duke  had  put  himself  into  a  false  position  by 
declining  the  royal  title.  Had  he  declared  himself  sovereign 
of  England,  his  cause  would  have  worn  a  show  of  legality. 
At  present  it  was  impossible  to  reconcile  his  Declaration 
with  the  principles  of  the  constitution.  It  was  clear  that 
either  Monmouth  or  his  uncle  was  rightful  King.  Mon- 
mouth did  not  venture  to  pronounce  himself  the  rightful 
King,  and  yet  denied  that  his  uncle  was  so.  Those  who 
fought  for  James  fought  for  the  only  person  who  ventured 
to  claim  the  throne,  and  were  therefore  clearly  in  their  duty, 
according  to  the  laws  of  the  realm.  Those  who  fought  for 
Monmouth  fought  for  some  unknown  polity,  which  was  to  be 
set  up  by  a  convention  not  yet  in  existence.  None  could 
wonder  that  men  of  high  rank  and  ample  fortune  stood  aloof 
from  an  enterprise  which  threatened  with  destruction  that 
system  in  the  permanence  of  which  they  were  deeply  inter- 
ested. If  the  Duke  would  assert  his  legitimacy  and  assume 
the  crown,  he  would  at  once  remove  this  objection.  The 

*  Harl.  MS.,  7006 ;  Oldmixon,  702  ;  Eachard,  Hi.,  763. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  535 

question  would  cease  to  be  a  question  between  the  old  con- 
stitution and  a  new  constitution.  It  would  be  merely  a  ques- 
tion of  hereditary  right  between  two  princes. 

On  such  grounds  as  these,  Ferguson,  almost  immediately 
after  the  landing,  had  earnestly  pressed  the  Duke  to  proclaim 
He  takes  the  himself  King;  and  Grey  had  seconded  Ferguson, 
tie  of  King.  Monmouth  had  been  very  willing  to  take  this  ad- 
vice ;  but  Wade  and  other  republicans  had  been  refractory ; 
and  their  chief,  with  his  usual  pliability,  had  yielded  to  their 
arguments.  At  Taunton  the  subject  was  revived.  Mon- 
mouth  talked  in  private  with  the  dissentients,  assured  them 
that  he  saw  no  other  way  of  obtaining  the  support  of  any  por- 
tion of  the  aristocracy,  and  succeeded  in  extorting  their  reluc- 
tant consent.  On  the  morning  of  the  twentieth  of  June  he 
was  proclaimed  in  the  market-place  of  Taunton.  His  follow- 
ers repeated  his  new  title  with  affectionate  delight.  But,  as 
some  confusion  might  have  arisen  if  he  had  been  called  King 
James  the  Second,  they  commonly  used  the  strange  appella- 
tion of  King  Monmouth :  and  by  this  name  their  unhappy 
favorite  was  often  mentioned  in  the  western  counties  within 
the  memory  of  persons  still  living.* 

Within  twenty-four  hours  after  he  had  assumed  the  regal 
title,  he  put  forth  several  proclamations  headed  with  his  sign- 
manual.  By  one  of  these  he  set  a  price  on  the  head  of  his 
rival.  Another  declared  the  Parliament  then  sitting  at  West- 
minster an  unlawful  assembly,  and  commanded  the  members 
to  disperse.  A  third  forbade  the  people  to  pay  taxes  to  the 
usurper.  A  fourth  pronounced  Albemarle  a  traitor,  f 

Albemarle  transmitted  these  proclamations  to  London 
merely  as  specimens  of  folly  and  impertinence.  They  pro- 
duced no  effect,  except  wonder  and  contempt ;  nor  had  Mon- 
mouth any  reason  to  think  that  the  assumption  of  royalty 
had  improved  his  position.  Only  a  week  had  elapsed  since  he 

*  Wade's  Confession;  Goodenough's  Confession,  Harl.  MS.,  1152;  Oldmixon, 
702.  Ferguson's  denial  is  quite  undeserving  of  credit.  A  copy  of  the  proclama- 
tion is  in  the  Harl.  MS.,  7006. 

f  Copies  of  the  last  three  proclamations  are  in  the  British  Museum ;  Harl.  MS., 
7006.  The  first  I  have  never  seen  ;  but  it  is  mentioned  by  Wade. 


536  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

had  solemnly  bound  himself  not  to  take  the  crown  till  a  free 
Parliament  should  have  acknowledged  his  rights.  By  break- 
ing that  engagement  he  had  incurred  the  imputation  of  levity. 
if  not  of  perfidy.  The  class  which  he  had  hoped  to  concili- 
ate still  stood  aloof.  The  reasons  which  prevented  the  great 
Whig  lords  and  gentlemen  from  recognizing  him  as  their 
king  were  at  least  as  strong  as  those  which  had  prevented 
them  from  rallying  round  him  as  their  Captain-general.  They 
disliked,  indeed,  the  person,  the  religion,  and  the  politics  of 
James.  But  James  was  no  longer  young.  His  eldest  daugh- 
ter was  justly  popular.  She  was  attached  to  the  reformed 
faith.  She  was  married  to  a  prince  who  was  the  hereditary 
chief  of  the  Protestants  of  the  Continent,  to  a  prince  who 
had  been  bred  in  a  republic,  and  whose  sentiments  were  sup- 
posed to  be  such  as  became  a  constitutional  king.  Was  it 
wise  to  incur  the  horrors  of  civil  war,  for  the  mere  chance  of 
being  able  to  effect  immediately  what  nature  would,  without 
bloodshed,  without  any  violation  of  law,  effect,  in  all  proba- 
bility, before  many  years  should  have  expired?  Perhaps 
there  might  be  reasons  for  pulling  down  James.  But  what 
reason  could  be  given  for  setting  up  Monmouth  ?  To  exclude 
a  prince  from  the  throne  on  account  of  unfitness  was  a  course 
agreeable  to  Whig  principles.  But  on  no  principle  could  it 
be  proper  to  exclude  rightful  heirs,  who  were  admitted  to  be, 
not  only  blameless,  but  eminently  qualified  for  the  highest 
public  trust.  That  Monmouth  was  legitimate,  nay,  that  he 
thought  himself  legitimate,  intelligent  men  could  not  believe. 
He  was,  therefore,  not  merely  a  usurper,  but  a  usurper  of 
the  worst  sort,  an  impostor.  If  he  made  out  any  semblance 
of  a  case,  he  could  do  so  only  by  means  of  forgery  and  per- 
jury. All  honest  and  sensible  persons  were  unwilling  to  see  a 
fraud  which,  if  practised  to  obtain  an  estate,  would  have  been 
punished  with  the  scourge  and  the  pillory,  rewarded  with  the 
English  crown.  To  the  old  nobility  of  the  realm  it  seemed 
insupportable  that  the  bastard  of  Lucy  Walters  should  be  set 
up  high  above  the  lawful  descendants  of  the  Fitzalans  and 
De  Veres.  Those  who  were  capable  of  looking  forward  must 
have  seen  that,  if  Monmouth  should  succeed  in  overpowering 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND  537 

the  existing  government,  there  would  still  remain  a  war  be- 
tween him  and  the  House  of  Orange,  a  war  which  might  last 
longer  and  produce  more  misery  than  the  war  of  the  Roses,  a 
war  which  might  probably  break  up  the  Protestants  of  Europe 
into  hostile  parties,  might  arm  England  and  Holland  against 
each  other,  and  might  make  both  those  countries  an  easy  prey 
to  France.  The  opinion,  therefore,  of  almost  all  the  leading 
Whigs  seems  to  have  been  that  Monmouth's  enterprise  could 
not  fail  to  end  in  some  great  disaster  to  the  nation,  but  that, 
on  the  whole,  his  defeat  would  be  a  less  disaster  than  his 
victory. 

It  was  not  only  by  the  inaction  of  the  Whig  aristocracy 
that  the  invaders  were  disappointed.  The  wealth  and  power 
of  London  had  sufficed  in  the  preceding  generation,  and  might 
again  suffice,  to  turn  the  scale  in  a  civil  conflict.  The  Lon- 
doners had  formerly  given  many  proofs  of  their  hatred  of 
Popery  and  of  their  affection  for  the  Protestant  Duke.  He 
had  too  readily  believed  that,  as  soon  as  he  landed,  there  would 
be  a  rising  in  the  capital.  But,  though  advices  came  down 
to  him  that  many  thousands  of  the  citizens  had  been  enrolled 
as  volunteers  for  the  good  cause,  nothing  was  done.  The 
plain  truth  was  that  the  agitators  who  had  urged  him  to  in- 
vade England,  who  had  promised  to  rise  on  the  first  signal, 
and  who  had  perhaps  imagined,  while  the  danger  was  remote, 
that  they  should  have  the  courage  to  keep  their  promise,  lost 
heart  when  the  critical  time  drew  near.  Wildman's  fright 
was  such  that  he  seemed  to  have  lost  his  understanding.  The 
craven  Danvers  at  first  excused  his  inaction  by  saying  that  he 
would  not  take  up  arms  till  Monmouth  was  proclaimed  king, 
and,  when  Monmouth  had  been  proclaimed  king,  turned  round 
and  declared  that  good  republicans  were  absolved  from  all  en- 
gagements to  a  leader  who  had  so  shamefully  broken  faith. 
In  every  age  the  vilest  specimens  of  human  nature  are  to  be 
found  among  demagogues.* 

On  the  day  following  that  on  which  Monmouth  had  as- 
sumed the  regal  title  he  inarched  from  Taunton  to  Bridge- 

*  Grey's  Narrative ;  Ferguson's  MS.,  Eachard,  iii.,  754. 


538  HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND.  CH.V. 

water.  His  own  spirits,  it  was  remarked,  were  not  high.  The 
acclamations  of  the  devoted  thousands  who  surrounded  him 
wherever  he  turned  could  not  dispel  the  gloom  which  sat  on 
his  brow.  Those  who  had  seen  him  during  his  progress 
through  Somersetshire  five  years  before  could  not  now  ob- 
serve without  pity  the  traces  of  distress  and  anxiety  on  those 
soft  and  pleasing  features  which  had  won  so  many  hearts.* 

Ferguson  was  in  a  very  different  temper.  With  this  man's 
knavery  was  strangely  mingled  an  eccentric  vanity  which 
resembled  madness.  The  thought  that  he  had  raised  a  rebel- 
lion and  bestowed  a  crown  had  turned  his  head.  He  swag- 
gered about,  brandishing  his  naked  swrord,  and  crying  to  the 
crowd  of  spectators  who  had  assembled  to  see  the  army  march 
out  of  Taunton,  "  Look  at  me !  You  have  heard  of  me.  I 
am  Ferguson,  the  famous  Ferguson,  the  Ferguson  for  whose 
head  so  many  hundred  pounds  have  been  offered."  And  this 
man,  at  once  unprincipled  and  brain-sick,  had  in  his  keeping 
the  understanding  and  the  conscience  of  the  unhappy  Mon- 
mouth.f 

Bridgewater  wras  one  of  the  few  towns  which  still  had  some 
Whig  magistrates.  The  Mayor  and  Aldermen  came  in  their 
HIS  reception  robes  to  welcome  the  Duke,  walked  before  him  in 
atBruigewater.  procession  to  the  high  cross,  and  there  proclaimed 
him  king.  His  troops  found  excellent  quarters,  and  were 
furnished  with  necessaries  at  little  or  no  cost  by  the  people  of 
the  town  and  neighborhood.  He  took  up  his  residence  in  the 
Castle,  a  building  which  had  been  honored  by  several  royal 
visits.  In  the  Castle  Field  his  army  was  encamped.  It  now 
consisted  of  about  six  thousand  men,  and  might  easily  have 
been  increased  to  double  the  number,  but  for  the  want  of  amis. 
The  Duke  had  brought  with  him  from  the  Continent  but  a 
scanty  supply  of  pikes  and  muskets.  Many  of  his  followers 
had,  therefore,  no  other  weapons  than  such  as  could  be  fash- 
ioned out  of  the  tools  which  they  had  used  in  husbandry  or 
mining.  Of  these  rude  implements  of  war  the  most  formida- 
ble was  made  by  fastening  the  blade  of  a  scythe  erect  on  a 

*  Persecution  Exposed,  by  John  Whiting.  f  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  539 

strong  pole.*  The  tithing-men  of  the  country  round  Taun- 
ton  and  Bridgewater  received  orders  to  search  everywhere  for 
scythes,  and  to  bring  all  that  could  be  found  to  the  camp.  It 
was  impossible,  however,  even  with  the  help  of  these  contriv- 
ances, to  supply  the  demand ;  and  great  numbers  who  were 
desirous  to  enlist  were  sent  away.f 

The  foot  were  divided  into  six  regiments.  Many  of  the 
men  had  been  in  the  militia,  and  still  wore  their  uniforms,  red 
and  yellow.  The  cavalry  were  about  a  thousand  in  number ; 
but  most  of  them  had  only  large  colts,  such  as  were  then  bred 
in  great  herds  on  the  marshes  of  Somersetshire  for  the  pur- 
pose of  supplying  London  with  coach-horses  and  cart-horses. 
These  animals  were  so  far  from  being  fit  for  any  military 
purpose  that  they  had  not  yet  learned  to  obey  the  bridle,  and 
became  ungovernable  as  soon  as  they  heard  a  gun  fired  or  a 
drum  beaten.  A  small  body-guard  of  forty  young  men,  well 
armed  and  mounted  at  their  own  charge,  attended  Monmouth. 
The  people  of  Bridgewater,  who  were  enriched  by  a  thriving 
coast  trade,  furnished  him  with  a  small  sum  of  money.;}: 

All  this  time  the  forces  of  the  government  were  fast  as- 
sembling. On  the  west  of  the  rebel  army,  Albemarle  still 
kept  together  a  large  body  of  Devonshire  militia. 

Preparations  r  ... 

of  the  govern-    Oil  the  east,  the  trainbands  of  Wiltshire  had  mus- 

ment  to  op- 
pose him.         tered  under  the  command  of  Thomas  Herbert,  Earl 

of  Pembroke.  On  the  north-east,  Henry  Somerset,  Duke  of 
Beaufort,  was  in  arms.  The  power  of  Beaufort  bore  some 
faint  resemblance  to'  that  of  the  great  barons  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  He  was  President  of  Wales  and  Lord-lieutenant  of 
four  English  counties.  His  official  tours  through  the  exten- 
sive region  in  which  lie  represented  the  majesty  of  the  throne 
were  scarcely  inferior  in  pomp  to  royal  progresses.  His 
household  at  Badminton  was  regulated  after  the  fashion  of 
an  earlier  generation.  The  land  to  a  great  extent  round  his 
pleasure-grounds  was  in  his  own  hands ;  and  the  laborers  who 
cultivated  it  formed  part  of  his  family.  Nine  tables  were  ev- 

*  One  of  these  weapons  may  still  be  seen  in  the  Tower. 

t  Grey's  Narrative ;  Paschall's  Narrative  in  the  Appendix  to  Heywood's  Vindi- 
cation. \  Oldmixon,  702. 


540  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

ery  day  spread  under  his  roof  for  two  hundred  persons.  A 
crowd  of  gentlemen  and  pages  were  under  the  orders  of  the 
steward.  A  whole  troop  of  cavalry  obeyed  the  master  of  the 
horse.  The  fame  of  the  kitchen,  the  cellar,  the  kennel,  and 
the  stables  was  spread  over  all  England.  The  gentry,  many 
miles  round,  were  proud  of  the  magnificence  of  their  great 
neighbor,  and  were  at  the  same  time  charmed  by  his  affabil- 
ity and  good-nature.  He  was  a  zealous  Cavalier  of  the  old 
school.  At  this  crisis,  therefore,  he  used  his  whole  influence 
and  authority  in  support  of  the  crown,  and  occupied  Bristol 
with  the  trainbands  of  Gloucestershire,  who  seem  to  have  been 
better  disciplined  than  most  other  troops  of  that  description.* 

In  the  counties  more  remote  from  Somersetshire  the  sup- 
porters of  the  throne  were  on  the  alert.  The  militia  of  Sus- 
sex began  to  march  westward,  under  the  command  of  Rich- 
ard, Lord  Lumley,  who,  though  he  had  lately  been  converted 
from  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  was  still  firm  in  his  al- 
legiance to  a  Roman  Catholic  king.  James  Bertie,  Earl  of 
Abingdon,  called  out  the  array  of  Oxfordshire.  John  Fell, 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  who  was  also  Dean  of  Christ  Church,  sum- 
moned the  undergraduates  of  his  University  to  take  arms  for 
the  crown.  The  gownsmen  crowded  to  give  in  their  names. 
Christ  Church  alone  furnished  near  a  hundred  pikemen  and 
musketeers.  Young  noblemen  and  gentlemen  commoners 
acted  as  officers ;  and  the  eldest  son  of  the  Lord-lieutenant 
was  colonel.f 

But  it  was  chiefly  on  the  regular  troops  that  the  King  re- 
lied. Churchill  had  been  sent  westward  with  the  Blues  ;  and 
Feversharn  was  following  with  all  the  forces  that  could  be 
spared  from  the  neighborhood  of  London.  A  courier  had 
started  for  Holland  with  a  letter  directing  Skelton  instantly 
to  request  that  the  three  English  regiments  in  the  Dutch  ser- 
vice might  be  sent  to  the  Thames.  When  the  request  was 

*  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  132.  Accounts  of  Beaufort's  progress  through 
Wales  and  the  neighboring  counties  are  in  the  London  Gazettes  of  July,  1684. 
Letter  of  Beaufort  to  Clarendon,  June  19,  1685. 

f  Bishop  Fell  to  Clarendon,  June  20 ;  Abingdon  to  Clarendon,  June  20,  25,  26, 
1685  ;  Lansdowne  MS.,  846. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  541 

made,  the  party  hostile  to  the  House  of  Orange,  headed  by 
the  deputies  of  Amsterdam,  again  tried  to  cause  delay.  But 
the  energy  of  "William,  who  had  almost  as  much  at  stake  as 
James,  and  who  saw  Monmouth's  progress  with  serious  uneas- 
iness, bore  down  opposition ;  and  in  a  few  days  the  troops 
sailed.*  The  three  Scotch  regiments  were  already  in  Eng- 
land. They  had  arrived  at  Gravesend  in  excellent  condition, 
and  James  had  reviewed  them  on  Bkckheath.  He  repeatedly 
declared  to  the  Dutch  Ambassador  that  he  had  never  in  his 
life  seen  finer  or  better  disciplined  soldiers,  and  expressed  the 
warmest  gratitude  to  the  Prince  of  Orange  and  the  States  for 
so  valuable  and  seasonable  a  re-enforcement.  This  satisfac- 
tion, however,  was  not  unmixed.  Excellently  as  the  men 
went  through  their  drill,  they  were  not  untainted  with  Dutch 
politics  and  Dutch  divinity.  One  of  them  was  shot  and  an- 
other flogged  for  drinking  the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  health. 
It  was,  therefore,  not  thought  advisable  to  place  them  in  the 
post  of  danger.  They  were  kept  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lon- 
don till  the  end  of  the  campaign.  But  their  arrival  enabled 
the  King  to  send  to  the  west  some  infantry  which  would 
otherwise  have  been  wanted  in  the  capital.f 

While  the  government  was  thus  preparing  for  a  conflict 
with  the  rebels  in  the  field,  precautions  of  a  different  kind 
were  not  neglected.  In  London  alone  two  hundred  of  those 
persons  who  were  thought  most  likely  to  be  at  the  head  of  a 
Whig  movement  were  arrested.  Among  the  prisoners  were 
some  merchants  of  great  note.  Every  man  who  was  obnox- 
ious to  the  court  went  in  fear.  A  general  gloom  overhung 
the  capital.  Business  languished  on  the  Exchange;  and  the 
theatres  were  so  generally  deserted  that  a  new  opera,  written 
by  Dryden,  and  set  off  by  decorations  of  unprecedented  mag- 
nificence, was  withdrawn,  because  the  receipts  would  not  cover 
the  expenses  of  the  performance.^:  The  magistrates  and 
clergy  were  everywhere  active.  The  Dissenters  were  every- 

*  Avaux,  July  T\,  ^,  1685. 

f  Van  Citters,  ~f^  July  &,  f|,  1685  ;  Avaux  Neg.,  July  ^ ;  London  Gazette, 
July  6. 

f  Barillon,  July  T6?,  1685  ;  Scott's  preface  to  Albion  and  Albanius.     . 


542  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

where  closely  observed.  In  Cheshire  and  Shropshire  a  fierce 
persecution  raged :  in  Northamptonshire  arrests  were  numer- 
ous ;  and  the  jail  of  Oxford  was  crowded  with  prisoners.  No 
Puritan  divine,  however  moderate  his  opinions,  however 
guarded  his  conduct,  could  feel  any  confidence  that  he  should 
not  be  torn  from  his  family  and  flung  into  a  dungeon.* 

Meanwhile  Momnouth  advanced  from  Bridge  water  har- 
assed through  the  whole  march  by  Churchill,  who  appears  to 
have  done  all  that,  with  a  handful  of  men,  it  was  possible  for 
a  brave  and  skilful  officer  to  effect.  The  rebel  army,  much 
annoyed  both  by  the  enemy  and  by  a  heavy  fall  of  rain, 
halted  in  the  evening  of  the  twenty-second  of  June  at  Glas- 
tonbury.  The  houses  of  the  little  town  did  not  afford  shel- 
ter for  so  large  a  force.  Some  of  the  troops  were  there- 
fore quartered  in  the  churches,  and  others  lighted  their  fires 
among  the  venerable  ruins  of  the  Abbey,  once  the  wealthiest 
religious  house  in  our  island.  From  Glastonbury  the  Duke 
marched  to  "Wells,  and  from  Wells  to  Shepton  Mallet.f 

Hitherto  he  seems  to  have  wandered  from  place  to  place 
with  no  other  object  than  that  of  collecting  troops.  It  was 
HIS  design  on  now  necessary  for  him  to  form  some  plan  of  mili- 
tary operations.  His  first  scheme  was  to  seize  Bris- 
tol. Many  of  the  chief  inhabitants  of  that  important  place 
were  Whigs.  One  of  the  ramifications  of  the  Whig  plot 
had  extended  thither.  The  garrison  consisted  only  of  the 
Gloucestershire  trainbands.  If  Beaufort  and  his  rustic  fol- 
lowers could  be  overpowered  before  the  regular  troops  arrived, 
the  rebels  would  at  once  find  themselves  possessed  of  ample 
pecuniary  resources :  the  credit  of  Monmouth's  arms  would 
be  raised  ;  and  his  friends  throughout  the  kingdom  would  be 
encouraged  to  declare  themselves.  Bristol  had  fortifications 
which,  on  the  north  of  the  Avon  toward  Gloucestershire,  were 
weak,  but  on  the  south  toward  Somersetshire  were  much 
stronger.  It  was,  therefore,  determined  that  the  attack  should 
be  made  on  the  Gloucestershire  side.  But  for  this  purpose  it 

*  Abingdon  to  Clarendon,  June  29,  1685  ;  Life  of  Philip  Henry,  by  Bates, 
f  London  Gazette,  June  22  and  June  25,  1685;  Wade's  Confession;  Oldmixon, 
703;  Harl.  MS.,  6845. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  543 

was  necessary  to  take  a  circuitous  route,  and  to  cross  the  Avon 
at  Keynsliam.  The  bridge  at  Keynsharn  had  been  partly  de- 
molished by  the  militia,  and  was  at  present  impassable.  A 
detachment  was,  therefore,  sent  forward  to  make  the  neces- 
sary repairs.  The  other  troops  followed  more'  slowly,  and  on 
the  evening  of  the  twenty-fourth  of  June  halted  for  repose  at 
Pensford.  At  Pensford  they  were  only  five  miles  from  the 
Somersetshire  side  of  Bristol ;  but  the  Gloucestershire  side, 
which  could  be  reached  only  by  going  round  through  Keyn- 
sham,  was  distant  a  long  day's  march.* 

That  night  was  one  of  great  tumult  and  expectation  in 
Bristol.  The  partisans  of  Mon mouth  knew  that  he  was  al- 
most within  sight  of  their  city,  and  imagined  that  he  would 
be  among  them  before  daybreak.  About  an  hour  after  sun- 
set a  merchantman  lying  at  the  quay  took  fire.  Such  an  oc- 
currence, in  a  port  crowded  with  shipping,  could  not  but  ex- 
cite great  alarm.  The  whole  river  was  in  commotion.  The 
streets  were  crowded.  Seditious  cries  were  heard  amidst  the 
darkness  and  confusion.  It  was  afterward  asserted,  both  by 
Whigs  and  by  Tories,  that  the  fire  had  been  kindled  by  the 
friends  of  Monmouth,  in  the  hope  that  the  trainbands  would 
be  busied  in  preventing  the  conflagration  from  spreading,  and 
that  in  the  mean  time  the  rebel  army  would  make  a  bold 
push,  and  would  enter  the  city  on  the  Somersetshire  side.  If 
such  was  the  design  of  the  incendiaries,  it  completely  failed. 
Beaufort,  instead  of  sending  his  men  to  the  quay,  kept  them 
all  night  drawn  up  under  arms  round  the  beautiful  church  of 
Saint  Mary  Redcliff,  on  the  south  of  the  Avon.  He  would 
see  Bristol  burned  down,  he  said,  nay,  he  would  burn  it  down 
himself,  rather  than  that  it  should  be  occupied  by  traitors. 
He  was  able,  with  the  help  of  some  regular  cavalry  which 
had  joined  him  from  Chippenham  a  few  hours  before,  to  pre- 
vent an  insurrection.  It  might  perhaps  have  been  beyond  his 
power  at  once  to  overawe  the  malcontents  within  the  walls 
and  to  repel  an  attack  from  without :  but  no  such  attack  was 
made.  The  fire,  which  caused  so  much  commotion  at  Bristol, 

*  Wade's  Confession. 


544  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.V. 

was  distinctly  seen  at  Pensford.  Monmouth,  however,  did 
not  think  it  expedient  to  change  his  plan.  He  remained 
quiet  till  sunrise,  and  then  inarched  to  Keynsham.  There  he 
found  the  bridge  repaired.  He  determined  to  let  his  army 
rest  during  the  afternoon,  and,  as  soon  as  night  came,  to 
proceed  to  Bristol.* 

But  it  was  too  late.  The  King's  forces  were  now  near  at 
hand.  Colonel  Oglethorpe,  at  the  head  of  about  a  hundred 
men  of  the  Life  Guards,  dashed  into  Keynsham,  scattered  two 
troops  of  rebel  horse  which  ventured  to  oppose  him,  and  re- 
iie  relinquish-  tired  after  inflicting  much  injury  and  suffering  lit- 
es  that  design.  fte  jn  ^]iese  circumstances  it  was  thought  neces- 
sary to  relinquish  the  design  on  Bristol.f 

But  what  was  to  be  done  ?  Several  schemes  were  proposed 
and  discussed.  It  was  suggested  that  Monmouth  might  has- 
ten to  Gloucester,  might  cross  the  Severn  there,  might  break 
down  the  bridge  behind  him,  and,  with  his  right  flank  pro- 
tected by  the  river,  might  march  through  Worcestershire  into 
Shropshire  and  Cheshire.  He  had  formerly  made  a  progress 
through  those  counties,  and  had  been  received  there  with  as 
much  enthusiasm  as  in  Somersetshire  and  Devonshire.  His 
presence  might  revive  the  zeal  of  his  old  friends ;  and  his 
army  might  in  a  few  days  be  swollen  to  double  its  present 
numbers. 

On  full  consideration,  however,  it  appeared  that  this  plan, 
though  specious,  was  impracticable.  The  rebels  were  ill  shod 
for  such  work  as  they  had  lately  undergone,  and  were  ex- 
hausted by  toiling,  day  after  day,  through  deep  mud  under 
heavy  rain.  Harassed  and  impeded  as  they  would  be  at 
every  stage  by  the  enemy's  cavalry,  they  could  not  hope 
to  reach  Gloucester  without  being  overtaken  by  the  main 
bod}*  of  the  royal  troops,  and  forced  to  a  general  action  under 
every  disadvantage. 

Then  it  was  proposed  to  enter  Wiltshire.  Persons  who 
professed  to  know  that  county  well  assured  the  Duke  that 

*  Wade's  Confession ;  Oldmixon,  703 ;  Harl.  MS.,  6845 ;  Charge  of  Jeffreys  to 
the  grand  jury  of  Bristol,  Sept.  21, 1685. 

f  London  Gazette,  June  29, 1685  ;  Wade's  Confession. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  545 

he  would  be  joined  there  by  such  strong  re-enforcements  as 
would  make  it  safe  for  him  to  give  battle.* 

He  took  this  advice,  and  turned  toward  Wiltshire.  He 
first  summoned  Bath.  But  Bath  was  strongly  garrisoned  for 
the  King;  and  Feversham  was  fast  approaching.  The  reb- 
els, therefore,  made  no  attempt  on  the  walls,  but  hastened 
to  Philip's  Norton,  where  they  halted  on  the  evening  of  the 
twenty-sixth  of  June. 

Feversham  followed  them  thither.  Early  on  the  morning 
of  the  twenty-seventh  they  were  alarmed  by  tidings  that  he 
was  close  at  hand.  They  got  into  order,  and  lined  the  hedges 
leading  to  the  town. 

The  advanced  guard  of  the  royal  army  soon  appeared.  It 
consisted  of  about  five  hundred  men,  commanded  by  the 
Duke  of  Grafton,  a  youth  of  bold  spirit  and  rough  manners, 
who  was  probably  eager  to  show  that  he  had  no  share  in  the 
disloyal  schemes  of  his  half  -  brother.  Grafton  soon  found 
himself  in  a  deep  lane  with  fences  on  both  sides  of  him, 
from  which  a  galling  fire  of  musketry  was  kept  up.  Still 
he  pushed  boldly  on  till  he  came  to  the  entrance  of 

Skirmish  at  . 

Philip's  Nor-  Philip  s  .Norton.  Ihere  his  way  was  crossed  by  a 
barricade,  from  which  a  third  fire  met  him  full  in 
front.  His  men  now  lost  heart,  and  made  the  best  of  their 
way  back.  Before  they  got  out  of  the  lane  more  than  a 
hundred  of  them  had  been  killed  or  wounded.  Grafton's 
retreat  was  intercepted  by  some  of  the  rebel  cavalry ;  but  he 
cut  his  way  gallantly  through  them,  and  came  off  safe.f 

The  advanced  guard,  thus  repulsed,  fell  back  on  the  main 
body  of  the  royal  forces.  The  two  armies  were  now  face  to 
face;  and  a  few  shots  were  exchanged  that  did  little  or  no  ex- 
ecution. Neither  side  was  impatient  to  come  to  action.  Fev- 
ersham did  not  wish  to  fight  till  his  artillery  came  up,  and  fell 
back  to  Bradford.  Monmouth,  as  soon  as  the  night  closed 
in,  quitted  his  position,  inarched  southward,  and  by  daybreak 
arrived  at  Frome,  where  he  hoped  to  find  re-enforcements. 


*  Wade's  Confession. 

f  London  Gazette,  July  2,  1685  ;  Barillon,  July  -fa ;  Wade's  Confession. 

L— 35 


546  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V, 

Fronie  was  as  zealous  in  his  cause  as  cither  Taunton  or 
Bridgewater,  but  could  do  nothing  to  serve  him.  There 
had  been  a  rising  a  few  days  before ;  and  Monmouth's  Dec- 
laration had  been  posted  up  in  the  market-place.  But  the 
news  of  this  movement  had  been  carried  to  the  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, who  lay  at  no  great  distance  with  the  Wiltshire  militia. 
He  had  instantly  inarched  to  Frorne,  had  routed  a  mob  of 
rustics  who,  with  scythes  and  pitchforks,  attempted  to  oppose 
him,  had  entered  the  town,  and  had  disarmed  the  inhabitants. 
No  weapons,  therefore,  were  left  there ;  nor  was  Monmouth 
able  to  furnish  any.* 

The  rebel  army  was  in  evil  case.  The  march  of  the  pre- 
ceding night  had  been  wearisome.  The  rain  had  fallen  in 
Despondence  torrents  ;  and  the  roads  had  become  mere  quag- 
Of  Monmouth.  mjres  Nothing  was  heard  of  the  promised  succors 
from  Wiltshire.  One  messenger  brought  news  that  Argyle's 
forces  had  been  dispersed  in  Scotland.  Another  reported  that 
Feversharn,  having  been  joined  by  his  artillery,  was  about  to 
advance.  Monmouth  understood  war  too  well  not  to  know 
that  his  followers,  with  all  their  courage  and  all  their  zeal, 
were  no  match  for  regular  soldiers.  lie  had  till  lately  flat- 
tered himself  with  the  hope  that  some  of  those  regiments 
which  he  had  formerly  commanded  would  pass  over  to  his 
standard  :  but  that  hope  he  was  now  compelled  to  relinquish. 
His  heart  failed  him.  He  could  scarcely  muster  firmness 
enough  to  give  orders.  In  his  misery  he  complained  bitterly 
of  the  evil  counsellors  who  had  induced  him  to  quit  his  happy 
retreat  in  Brabant.  Against  Wildman  in  particular  he  broke 
forth  into  violent  imprecations,  f  And  now  an  ignominious 
thought  rose  in  his  weak  and  agitated  mind.  He  would  leave 
to  the  mercy  of  the  government  the  thousands  who  had,  at 
his  call  and  for  his  sake,  abandoned  their  quiet  fields  and 
dwellings.  He  would  steal  away  with  his  chief  officers,  would 
gain  some  seaport  before  his  flight  was  suspected,  would  es- 
cape to  the  Continent,  and  would  forget  his  ambition  and  his 


*  London  Gazette,  June  29, 1685  ;  Van  Citters, 
t  Harl.  MS.,  6845  ;  Wade's  Confession. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  54:7 

shame  in  the  arms  of  Lady  Wentworth.  He  seriously  dis- 
cussed this  scheme  with  his  leading  advisers.  Some  of  them, 
trembling  for  their  necks,  listened  to  it  with  approbation  ;  but 
Grey,  who,  by  the  admission  of  his  detractors,  was  intrepid 
everywhere  except  where  swords  were  clashing  and  guns 
going  off  around  him,  opposed  the  dastardly  proposition  with 
great  ardor,  and  implored  the  Duke  to  face  every  danger 
rather  than  requite  with  ingratitude  and  treachery  the  devoted 
attachment  of  the  Western  peasantry.* 

The  scheme  of  flight  was  abandoned :  but  it  was  not  now 
easy  to  form  any  plan  for  a  campaign.  To  advance  toward 
London  would  have  been  madness;  for  the  road  lay  right 
across  Salisbury  Plain  ;  and  on  that  vast  open  space  regular 
troops,  and  above  all  regular  cavalry,  would  have  acted  with 
every  advantage  against  undisciplined  men.  At  this  juncture 
a  report  reached  the  camp  that  the  rustics  of  the  marshes  near 
Axbridge  had  risen  in  defence  of  the  Protestant  religion,  had 
armed  themselves  with  flails,  bludgeons,  and  pitchforks,  and 
were  assembling  by  thousands  at  Bridgewater.  Monmouth 
determined  to  return  thither,  and  to  strengthen  himself  with 
these  new  allies.f 

The  rebels  accordingly  proceeded  to  Wells,  and  arrived 
there  in  no  amiable  temper.  They  were,  with  few  excep- 
tions, hostile  to  Prelacy ;  and  they  showed  their  hostility  in  a 
way  very  little  to  their  honor.  They  not  only  tore  the  lead 
from  the  roof  of  the  magnificent  Cathedral  to  make  bullets, 
an  act  for  which  they  might  fairly  plead  the  necessities  of 
war,  but  wantonly  defaced  the  ornaments  of  the  building. 
Grey  with  difficulty  preserved  the  altar  from  the  insults  of 
some  ruffians  who  wished  to  carouse  round  it,  by  taking  his 
stand  before  it  with  his  sword  drawn. ^ 

On  Thursday,  the  second  of  July,  Monmouth  again  entered 
lie  returns  to  Bridgewater  in  circumstances  far  less  cheering  than 
Bridgewater.  those  in  which  he  had  marched  thence  ten  days  be- 
fore. The  re-enforcement  which  he  found  there  was  inconsid- 


*  Wade's  Confession  ;  Eachard,  iii.,  766.  f  Wade's  Confession. 

\  London  Gazette,  July  6, 1685  ;  Van  Citters,  July  T3S ;  Oldmixon,  703. 


54:8  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  V. 

erable.  The  royal  army  was  close  upon  him.  At  one  mo- 
ment he  thought  of  fortifying  the  town  ;  and  hundreds  of  la- 
borers were  summoned  to  dig  trenches  and  throw  up  mounds. 
Then  his  mind  recurred  to  the  plan  of  marching  into  Chesh- 
ire, a  plan  which  he  had  rejected  as  impracticable  when  he 
was  at  Keynsham,  and  which  assuredly  was  not  more  practi- 
cable now  that  he  was  at  Bridgewater.* 

While  he  was  thus  wavering  between  projects  equally  hope- 
less, the  King's  forces  came  in  sight.    They  consisted  of  about 
two  thousand  five  hundred  regular  troops,  and  of 

The  royal 

army  encamps  about   fifteen  hundred   of  the   Wiltshire   militia. 

at  Sedgemoor.     _,-  ,  .  „.  T        f>  /•  -i        /•   -r    i 

Early  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the  fifth  of  July, 
they  left  Somerton,  and  pitched  their  tents  that  day  about 
three  miles  from  Bridgewater,  on  the  plain  of  Sedgemoor. 

Doctor  Peter  Mew,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  accompanied 
them.  This  prelate  had  in  his  youth  borne  arms  for  Charles 
the  First  against  the  Parliament.  Neither  his  years  nor  his 
profession  had  wholly  extinguished  his  martial  ardor ;  and  he 
probably  thought  that  the  appearance  of  a  father  of  the  Prot- 
estant Church  in  the  King's  camp  might  confirm  the  loyalty 
of  some  honest  men  who  were  wavering  between  their  horror 
of  Popery  and  their  horror  of  rebellion. 

The  steeple  of  the  parish  church  of  Bridgewater  is  said  to 
be  the  loftiest  in  Somersetshire,  and  commands  a  wide  view 
over  the  surrounding  country.  Monmouth,  accompanied  by 
some  of  his  officers,  went  up  to  the  top  of  the  square  tower 
from  which  the  spire  ascends,  and  observed  through  a  tele- 
scope the  position  of  the  enemy.  Beneath  him  lay  a  flat  ex- 
panse, now  rich  with  cornfields  and  apple-trees,  but  then,  as 
its  name  imports,  for  the  most  part  a  dreary  morass.  When 
the  rains  were  heavy,  and  the  Parret  and  its  tributary  streams 
rose  above  their  banks,  this  tract  was  often  flooded.  It  was 
indeed  anciently  a  part  of  that  great  swamp  which  is  re- 
nowned in  our  early  chronicles  as  having  arrested  the  progress 
of  two  successive  races  of  invaders,  which  long  protected  the 
Celts  against  the  aggressions  of  the  kings  of  Wessex,  and 

*  Wade's  Confession. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  549 

which  sheltered  Alfred  from  the  pursuit  of  the  Danes.  In 
those  remote  times  this  region 'could  be  traversed  only  in 
boats.  It  was  a  vast  pool,  wherein  were  scattered  many  islets 
of  shifting  and  treacherous  soil,  overhung  with  rank  jungle, 
and  swarming  with  deer  and  wild  swine.  Even  in  the  days  of 
the  Tudors,  the  traveller  whose  journey  lay  from  Ilchester  to 
Bridgewater  was  forced  to  make  a  circuit  of  several  miles  in 
order  to  avoid  the  waters.  When  Monmouth  looked  upon 
Sedgemoor,  it  had  been  partially  reclaimed  by  art,  and  was 
intersected  by  many  deep  and  wide  trenches  which,  in  that 
country,  are  called  rhines.  In  the  midst  of  the  moor  rose, 
clustering  round  the  towers  of  churches,  a  few  villages,  of 
which  the  names  seem  to  indicate  that  they  once  were  sur- 
rounded by  waves.  In  one  of  these  villages,  called  Weston 
Zoyland,  the  royal  cavalry  lay ;  and  Feversham  had  fixed  his 
head-quarters  there.  Many  persons  still  living  have  seen  the 
daughter  of  the  servant-girl  who  waited  on  him  that  day  at 
table ;  and  a  large  dish  of  Persian  ware,  which  was  set  before 
him,  is  still  carefully  preserved  in  the  neighborhood.  It  is  to 
be  observed  that  the  population  of  Somersetshire  does  not, 
like  that  of  the  manufacturing  districts,  consist  of  emigrants 
from  distant  places.  It  is  by  no  means  unusual  to  find  farm- 
ers who  cultivate  the  same  land  which  their  ancestors  cul- 
tivated when  the  Plantagenets  reigned  in  England.  The 
Somersetshire  traditions  are,  therefore,  of  no  small  value  to  a 
historian.* 

At  a  greater  distance  from  Bridgewater  lies  the  village  of 
Middlezoy.  In  that  village  and  its  neighborhood  the  Wilt- 
shire militia  were  quartered,  under  the  command  of  Pembroke. 

On  the  open  moor,  not  far  from  Chedzoy,  were  encamped 
several  battalions  of  regular  infantry.  Monmouth  looked 
gloomily  on  them.  He  could  not  but  remember  how,  a  few 


*  Matt.  West.  Flor.  Hist.,  A.D.  788 ;  MS.  Chronicle  quoted  by  Mr.  Sharon  Turner 
in  the  History  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  Book  IV.,  Chap.  xix. ;  Drayton's  Polyolbion, 
iii. ;  Leland's  Itinerary ;  Oldmixon,  703.  Oldmixon  was  then  at  Bridgewater,  and 
probably  saw  the  Duke  on  the  church  tower.  The  dish  mentioned  in  the  text  is 
the  property  of  Mr.  Stradling,  who  has  taken  laudable  pains  to  preserve  the  relics 
and  traditions  of  the  Western  insurrection. 


550  HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

years  before,  lie  had,  at  the  head  of  a  column  composed  ol 
some  of  those  very  men,  driven  before  him  in  confusion  the 
fierce  enthusiasts  who  defended  Bothwell  Bridge.  He  could 
distinguish  among  the  hostile  ranks  that  gallant  band  which 
was  then  called,  from  the  name  of  its  colonel,  Dumbarton's 
regiment,  but  which  has  long  been  known  as  the  first  of  the 
line,  and  which,  in  all  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  has 
nobly  supported  its  early  reputation.  "  I  know  those  men," 
said  Monmouth ;  "  they  will  fight.  If  I  had  but  them,  all 
would  go  well."* 

Yet  the  aspect  of  the  enemy  was  not  altogether  discourag- 
ing. The  three  divisions  of  the  royal  army  lay  far  apart  from 
one  another.  There  was  an  appearance  of  negligence  and 
of  relaxed  discipline  in  all  their  movements.  It  was  reported 
that  they  were  drinking  themselves  drunk  with  the  Zoyland 
cider.  The  incapacity  of  Feversham,  who  commanded  in 
chief,  was  notorious.  Even  at  this  momentous  crisis  he 
thought  only  of  eating  and  sleeping.  Churchill  was  indeed  a 
captain  equal  to  tasks  far  more  arduous  than  that  of  scatter- 
ing a  crowd  of  ill-armed  and  ill-trained  peasants.  But  the 
genius,  which,  at  a  later  period,  humbled  six  Marshals  of 
France,  was  not  now  in  its  proper  place.  Feversham  told 
Churchill  little,  and  gave  him  no  encouragement  to  offer  any 
suggestion.  The  lieutenant,  conscious  of  superior  abilities  and 
science,  impatient  of  the  control  of  a  chief  whom  he  despised, 
and  trembling  for  the  fate  of  the  army,  nevertheless  preserved 
his  characteristic  self-command,  and  dissembled  his  feelings 
so  well  that  Feversham  praised  his  submissive  alacrity,  and 
promised  to  report  it  to  the  King.f 

Monmouth,  having  observed  the  disposition  of  the  royal 
forces,  and  having  been  apprised  of  the  state  in  which  they 
were,  conceived  that  a  night  attack  might  be  attended  with 
success.  He  resolved  to  run  the  hazard;  and  preparations 
were  instantly  made. 

It  was  Sunday ;  and  his  followers,  who  had,  for  the  most 
part,  been  brought  up  after  the  Puritan  fashion,  passed  a 

*  Oldmixon,  703.  f  Churchill  to  Clarendon,  July  4,  1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  551 

great  part  of  tlie  day  in  religious  exercises.  The  Castle  Field, 
in  which  the  army  was  encamped,  presented  a  spectacle  such 
as,  since  the  disbanding  of  Cromwell's  soldiers,  England  had 
never  seen.  The  dissenting  preachers  who  had  taken  arms 
against  Popery,  and  some  of  whom  had  probably  fought  in 
the  great  civil  war,  prayed  and  preached  in  red  coats  and  huge 
jack-boots,  with  swords  by  their  sides.  Ferguson  was  one  of 
those  who  harangued.  He  took  for  his  text  the  awful  im- 
precation by  which  the  Israelites  who  dwelt  beyond  Jordan 
cleared  themselves  from  the  charge  ignorantly  brought  against 
them  by  their  brethren  on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  "  The 
Lord  God  of  gods,  the  Lord  God  of  gods,  he  knoweth ;  and 
Israel  he  shall  know.  If  it  be  in  rebellion,  or  if  in  transgres- 
sion against  the  Lord,  save  us  not  this  day."* 

That  an  attack  was  to  be  made  under  cover  of  the  night 
was  no  secret  in  Bridgewater.  The  town  was  full  of  women, 
who  had  repaired  thither  by  hundreds  from  the  surrounding 
region,  to  see  their  husbands,  sons,  lovers,  and  brothers  once 
more.  There  were  many  sad  partings  that  day ;  and  main- 
parted  never  to  meet  again. f  The  report  of  the  intended  at- 
tack came  to  the  ears  of  a  young  girl  who  was  zealous  for  the 
King.  Though  of  modest  character,  she  had  the  courage  to 
resolve  that  she  would  herself  bear  the  intelligence  to  Fev- 
ersham.  She  stole  out  of  Bridgewater,  and  made  her  way 
to  the  royal  camp.  But  that  camp  was>  not  a  place  where 
female  innocence  could  be  safe.  Even  the  officers,  despising 
alike  the  irregular  force  to  which  they  were  opposed,  and  the 
negligent  general  who  commanded  them,  had  indulged  largely 
in  wine,  and  were  ready  for  any  excess  of  licentiousness  and 
cruelty.  One  of  them  seized  the  unhappy  maiden,  refused  to 
listen  to  her  errand,  and  brutally  outraged  her.  She  fled  in  ag- 
onies of  rage  and  shame,  leaving  the  wicked  army  to  its  doom.;}; 

*  Oldmixon,  703;  Observator,  Aug.  1, 1685. 

f  Paschall's  Narrative  in  Heywood's  Appendix. 

\  Kennet,  ed.  1719,  iii.,  432.  I  am  forced  to  believe  that  this  lamentable  story 
is  true.  The  bishop  declares  that  it  was  communicated  to  him  in  the  year  1718 
by  a  brave  officer  of  the  Blues,  who  had  fought  at  Sedgemoor,  and  who  had  him- 
self seen  the  poor  girl  depart  in  an  agony  of  distress. 


552  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

And  now  the  time  for  the  great  hazard  drew  near.  The 
night  was  not  ill  suited  for  such  an  enterprise.  The  moon 
was  indeed  at  the  full,  and  the  northern  streamers  were  shin- 
ing brilliantly.  But  the  marsh  fog  lay  so  thick  on  Sedge- 
moor  that  no  object  could  be  discerned  there  at  the  distance 
of  fifty  paces.* 

The  clock  struck  eleven  ;  and  the  Duke  with  his  body- 
guard rode  out  of  the  Castle.  He  was  not  in  the  frame  of 
Battle  of  mind  which  befits  one  who  is  about  to  strike  a  de- 
scdgemoor.  cis[y&  blow.  The  very  children  who  pressed  to  see 
him  pass  observed,  and  long  remembered,  that  his  look  was 
sad  and  full  of  evil  augury.  His  army  marched  by  a  circui- 
tous path,  near  six  miles  in  length,  toward  the  royal  encamp- 
ment on  Sedgemoor.  Part  of  the  route  is  to  this  day  called 
"War  Lane.  The  foot  were  led  by  Monmouth  himself.  The 
horse  were  confided  to  Grey,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of 
some  who  remembered  the  mishap  at  Bridport.  Orders  were 
given  that  strict  silence  should  be  preserved,  that  no  drum 
should  be  beaten,  and  no  shot  fired.  The  word  by  which  the 
insurgents  were  to  recognize  one  another  in  the  darkness  was 
Soho.  It  had  doubtless  been  selected  in  allusion  to  Soho 
Fields  in  London,  where  their  leader's  palace  stood.f 

At  about  one  in  the  morning  of  Monday,  the  sixth  of  July, 
the  rebels  \vere  on  the  open  moor.  But  between  them  and 

*  Narrative  of  an  officer  of  the  Horse  Guards  in  Kennet,  ed.  1719,  iii.,  432 ;  MS. 
Journal  of  the  Western  Rebellion,  kept  by  Mr.  Edward  Dummer;  Drydeii's  Hind 
and  Panther,  Part  II.  The  lines  of  Dryden  are  remarkable : 

"  Such  were  the  pleasing  triumphs  of  the  sky 
For  James's  late  nocturnal  victory, 
The  pledge  of  his  almighty  patron's  love, 
The  fireworks  which  his  angels  made  above. 
I  saw  myself  the  lambent  easy  light 
Gild  the  brown  horror  and  dispel  the  night. 
The  messenger  with  speed  the  tidings  bore, 
News  which  three  laboring  nations  did  restore ; 
But  heaven's  own  Nuntius  was  arrived  before." 

f  It  has  been  said  by  several  writers,  and  among  them  by  Pennant,  that  the  dis- 
trict in  London  called  Soho  derived  its  name  from  the  watchword  of  Monmouth's 
army  at  Sedgemoor.  Mention  of  Soho  Fields  will  be  found  in  many  books  printed 
before  the  Western  insurrection ;  for  example,  in  Chamberlayne's  State  of  Eng- 
land, 1684. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  553 

the  enemy  lay  three  broad  rhines  filled  with  water  and  soft 
mud.  Two  of  these,  called  the  Black  Ditch  and  the  Lang- 
moor  Rhine,  Monmouth  knew  that  he  must  pass.  But,  strange 
to  say,  the  existence  of  a  trench,  called  the  Bussex  Rhine, 
which  immediately  covered  the  royal  encampment,  had  not 
been  mentioned  to  him  by  any  of  his  scouts. 

The  wains  which  carried  the  ammunition  remained  at  the 
entrance  of  the  moor.  The  horse  and  foot,  in  a  long  narrow 
column,  passed  the  Black  Ditch  by  a  causeway.  There  was  a 
similar  causeway  across  the  Langmoor  Rhine :  but  the  guide, 
in  the  fog,  missed  his  way.  There  was  some  delay  and  some 
tumult  before  the  error  could  be  rectified.  At  length  the 
passage  was  effected :  but,  in  the  confusion,  a  pistol  went  off. 
Some  men  of  the  Horse  Guards,  who  were  on  watch,  heard 
the  report,  and  perceived  that  a  great  multitude  was  ad- 
vancing through  the  mist.  They  fired  their  carbines,  and  gal- 
loped off  in  different  directions  to  give  the  alarm.  Some 
hastened  to  Westoii  Zoyland,  where  the  cavalry  lay.  One 
trooper  spurred  to  the  encampment  of  the  infantry,  and  cried 
out  vehemently  that  the  enemy  was  at  hand.  The  drums  of 
Dumbarton's  regiment  beat  to  arms ;  and  the  men  got  fast 
into  their  ranks.  It  was  time ;  for  Monmouth  was  already 
drawing  up  his  army  for  action.  He  ordered  Grey  to  lead 
the  way  with  the  cavalry,  and  followed  himself  at  the  head  of 
the  infantry.  Grey  pushed  on  till  his  progress  was  unexpect- 
edly arrested  by  the  Bussex  Rhine.  On  the  opposite  side  of 
the  ditch  the  King's  foot  were  hastily  forming  in  order  of 
battle. 

"  For  whom  are  you  ?"  called  out  an  officer  of  the  Foot 
Guards.  "  For  the  King,"  replied  a  voice  from  the  ranks  of 
the  rebel  cavalry.  "  For  which  King  ?"  wTas  then  demanded. 
The  answer  was  a  shout  of  "  King  Monmouth,"  mingled  with 
the  war-cry,  which  forty  years  before  had  been  inscribed  on 
the  colors  of  the  parliamentary  regiments,  "  God  with  us." 
The  royal  troops  instantly  fired  such  a  volley  of  musketry 
as  sent  the  rebel  horse  flying  in  all  directions.  The  world 
agreed  to  ascribe  this  ignominious  rout  to  Grey's  pusilla- 
nimity. Yet  it  is  by  no  means  clear  that  Churchill  would  have 


554  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.  V. 

succeeded  better  at  the  head  of  men  who  had  never  before 
handled  arms  on  horseback,  and  whose  horses  were  unused, 
not  only  to  stand  fire,  but  to  obey  the  rein. 

A  few  minutes  after  the  Duke's  horse  had  dispersed  them- 
selves over  the  moor,  his  infantry  came  up  running  fast,  arid 
guided  through  the  gloom  by  the  lighted  matches  of  Dum- 
barton's regiment. 

Monrnouth  was  startled  by  finding  that  a  broad  and  pro- 
found trench  lay  between  him  and  the  camp  which  he  had 
hoped  to  surprise.  The  insurgents  halted  on  the  edge  of  the 
rhine,  and  fired.  Part  of  the  royal  infantry  on  the  opposite 
bank  returned  the  fire.  During  three-quarters  of  an  hour  the 
roar  of  the  musketry  was  incessant.  The  Somersetshire  peas- 
ants behaved  themselves  as  if  they  had  been  veteran  soldiers, 
save  only  that  they  levelled  their  pieces  too  high. 

But  now  the  other  divisions  of  the  royal  army  were  in  mo- 
tion. The  Life  Guards  and  Blues  came  pricking  fast  from 
Weston  Zoyland,  and  scattered  in  an  instant  some  of  Grey's 
horse,  who  had  attempted  to  rally.  The  fugitives  spread  a 
panic  among  their  comrades  in  the  rear,  who  had  charge  of 
the  ammunition.  The  wagoners  drove  off  at  full  speed,  and 
never  stopped  till  they  were  many  miles  from  the  field  of  bat- 
tle. Monmoiith  had  hitherto  done  his  part  like  a  stout  and 
able  warrior.  He  had  been  seen  on  foot,  pike  in  hand,  en- 
couraging his  infantry  by  voice  and  by  example.  But  he  was 
too  well  acquainted  with  military  affairs  not  to  know  that  all 
was  over.  His  men  had  lost  the  advantage  which  surprise 
and  darkness  had  given  them.  They  were  deserted  by  the 
horse  and  by  the  ammunition -wagons.  The  King's  forces 
were  now  united  and  in  good  order.  Feversham  had  been 
awakened  by  the  firing,  had  got  out  of  bed,  had  adjusted  his 
cravat,  had  looked  at  himself  well  in  the  glass,  and  had  corne 
to  see  what  his  men  were  doing.  Meanwhile,  what  was  of 
much  more  importance,  Churchill  had  rapidly  made  an  entire- 
ly new  disposition  of  the  royal  infantry.  The  day  was  about 
to  break.  The  event  of  a  conflict  on  an  open  plain,  by  broad 
sunlight,  could  not  be  doubtful.  '  Yet  Monmouth  should  have 
felt  that  it  was  not  for  him  to  fly,  while  thousands  whom  af- 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  555 

fection  for  him  had  hurried  to  destruction  were  still  fighting 
manfully  in  his  cause.  But  vain  hopes  and  the  intense  love 
of  life  prevailed.  He  saw  that  if  he  tarried  the  royal  cavalry 
would  soon  intercept  his  retreat.  He  mounted  and  rode  from 
the  field. 

Yet  his  foot,  though  deserted,  made  a  gallant  stand.  The 
Life  Guards  attacked  them  on  the  right,  the  Blues  on  the 
left :  but  the  Somersetshire  clowns,  with  their  scythes  and 
the  butt  ends  of  their  muskets,  faced  the  royal  horse  like 
old  soldiers.  Oglethorpe  made  a  vigorous  attempt  to  break 
them,  and  was  manfully  repulsed.  Sarsfield,  a  brave  Irish  of- 
ficer, whose  name  afterward  obtained  a  melancholy  celebrity, 
charged  on  the  other  flank.  His  men  were  beaten  back.  He 
was  himself  struck  to  the  ground,  and  lay  for  a  time  as  one 
dead.  But  the  struggle  of  the  hardy  rustics  could  not  last. 
Their  powder  and  ball  were  spent.  Cries  were  heard  of 
"Ammunition!  For  God's  sake,  ammunition  !"  But  no  am- 
munition was  at  hand.  And  now  the  King's  artillery  came 
up.  It  had  been  posted  half  a  mile  off,  on  the  high-road  from 
Weston  Zoyland  to  Bridgewater.  So  defective  were  then  the 
appointments  of  an  English  army  that  there  would  have  been 
much  difficulty  in  dragging  the  great  guns  to  the  place  where 
the  battle  was  raging,  had  not  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  of- 
fered his  coach  horses  and  traces  for  the  purpose.  This  in- 
terference of  a  Christian  prelate  in  a  matter  of  blood  has, 
with  strange  inconsistency,  been  condemned  by  some  Whig 
writers  who  can  see  nothing  criminal  in  the  conduct  of  the 
numerous  Puritan  ministers  then  in  arms  against  the  govern- 
ment. Even  when  the  guns  had  arrived,  there  was  such  a 
want  of  gunners  that  a  sergeant  of  Dumbarton's  regiment 
was  forced  to  take  on  himself  the  management  of  several 
pieces.*  The  cannon,  however,  though  ill  served,  brought  the 
engagement  to  a  speedy  close.  The  pikes  of  the  rebel  bat- 
talions began  to  shake :  the  ranks  broke ;  the  King's  cavalry 

*  There  is  a  warrant  of  James  directing  that  forty  pounds  should  be  paid  to 
Sergeant  Weems,  of  Dumbarton's  regiment,  "  for  good  service  in  the  action  at 
Sedgemoor  in  firing  the  great  guns  against  the  rebels." — Historical  Record  of  the 
First  or  Royal  Regiment  of  Foot.  % 


556  HISTORY    OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

charged  again,  and  bore  down  everything  before  them  ;  the 
King's  infantry  came  pouring  across  the  ditch.  Even  in  that 
extremity  the  Mendip  miners  stood  bravely  to  their  arms,  and 
sold  their  lives  dearly.  But  the  rout  was  in  a  few  minutes 
complete.  Three  hundred  of  the  soldiers  had  been  killed  or 
wounded.  Of  the  rebels  more  than  a  thousand  lay  dead  on 
the  moor.* 


*  James  the  Second's  account  of  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor  in  Lord  Hardwieke's 
State  Papers  ;  Wade's  Confession ;  Ferguson's  MS.  Narrative  in  Eachard,  iii.,  768 ; 
Narrative  of  an  officer  of  the  Horse  Guards  in  Kennet,  ed.  1719,  iii.,  432 ;  London 
Gazette,  July  9, 1685  ;  Oldmixon,  703  ;  PaschalPs  Narrative;  Burnet,  i.,  643  ;  Eve- 
lyn's Diary,  July  8  ;  Van  Citters,  July  ^ ;  Barillon,  July  •£$ ;  Reresby's  Memoirs ; 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  Battle  of  Sedgemoor,  a  Farce;  MS.  Journal  of  the 
Western  Rebellion,  kept  by  Mr.  Edward  Dummer,  then  serving  in  the  train  of  ar- 
tillery employed  by  His  Majesty  for  the  suppression  of  the  same.  The  last  men- 
tioned manuscript  is  in  the  Pepysian  library,  and  is  of  the  greatest  value,  not  on 
account  of  the  narrative,  which  contains  little  that  is  remarkable,  but  on  account 
of  the  plans,  which  exhibit  the  battle  in  four  or  five  different  stages. 

"  The  history  of  a  battle,"  says  the  greatest  of  living  generals,  "  is  not  unlike 
the  history  of  a  ball.  Some  individuals  may  recollect  all  the  little  events  of  which 
the  -great  result  is  the  battle  won  or  lost ;  but  no  individual  can  recollect  the  order 
in  which,  or  the  exact  moment  at  which,  they  occurred,  which  makes  all  the  differ- 
ence as  to  their  value  or  importance.  *  *  *  Just  to  show  you  how  little  reliance 
can  be  placed  even  on  what  are  supposed  the  best  accounts  of  a  battle,  I  mention 

that  there  are  some  circumstances  mentioned  in  General 's  account  which  did 

not  occur  as  he  relates  them.  It  is  impossible  to  say  when  each  important  occur- 
rence took  place,  or  in  what  order." — Wellington  Papers,  Aug.  8  and  17,  1815. 

The  battle  concerning  which  the  Duke  of  Wellington  wrote  thus  was  that  of 
Waterloo,  fought  only  a  few  weeks  before,  by  broad  day,  under  his  own  vigilant 
and  experienced  eye.  What,  then,  must  be  the  difficulty  of  compiling  from  twelve 
or  thirteen  narratives  an  account  of  a  battle  fought  more  than  a  hundred  and  sixty 
years  ago  in  such  darkness  that  not  a  man  of  those  engaged  could  see  fifty  paces 
before  him?  The  difficulty  is  aggravated  by  the  circumstance  that  those  wit- 
nesses who  had  the  best  opportunity  of  knowing  the  truth  were  by  no  means  in- 
clined to  tell  it.  The  paper  which  I  have  placed  at  the  head  of  my  list  of  author- 
ities was  evidently  drawn  up  with  extreme  partiality  to  Feversham.  Wade  was 
writing  under  the  dread  of  the  halter.  Ferguson,  who  was  seldom  scrupulous 
about  the  truth  of  his  assertions,  lied  on  this  occasion  like  Bobadil  or  Parolles. 
Oldmixon,  who  was  a  boy  at  Bridgewater  when  the  battle  was  fought,  and  passed 
a  great  part  of  his  subsequent  life  there,  was  so  much  under  the  influence  of  local 
passions  that  his  local  information  was  useless  to  him.  His  desire  to  magnify  the 
valor  of  the  Somersetshire  peasants,  a  valor  which  their  enemies  acknowledged, 
and  which  did  not  need  to  be  set  off  by  exaggeration  and  fiction,  led  him  to  com- 
pose an  absurd  romance.  The  eulogy  which  Barillon,  a  Frenchman  accustomed  to 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  557 

So  ended  the  last  fight,  deserving  the  name  of  battle,  that 
has  been  fought  on  English  ground.  The  impression  left  on 
the  simple  inhabitants  of  the  neighborhood  was  deep  and  last- 
ing. That  impression,  indeed,  has  been  frequently  renewed. 
For  even  in  our  own  time  the  plough  and  the  spade  have  not 
seldom  turned  up  ghastly  memorials  of  the  slaughter — skulls, 
and  thigh-bones,  and  strange  weapons  made  out  of  implements 
of  husbandly.  Old  peasants  related  very  recently  that,  in 
their  childhood,  they  were  accustomed  to  play  on  the  moor  at 
the  fight  between  King  James's  men  and  King  Monmouth's 
men,  and  that  King  IVIonmouth's  men  always  raised  the  cry  of 
Soho.* 

What  seems  most  extraordinary  in  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor 
is  that  the  event  should  have  been  for  a  moment  doubtful, 
and  that  the  rebels  should  have  resisted  so  long.  That  five 
or  six  thousand  colliers  and  ploughmen  should  contend  during 
an  hour  with  half  that  number  of  regular  cavalry  and  infantry 
would  now  be  thought  a  miracle.  Our  wonder  will,  perhaps, 
be  diminished  when  we  remember  that,  in  the  time  of  James 
the  Second,  the  discipline  of  the  regular  army  was  extremely 
lax,  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  peasantry  were  accustomed 
to  serve  in  the  militia.  The  difference,  therefore,  between  a 
regiment  of  the  Foot  Guards  and  a  regiment  of  clowns  just 
enrolled,  though  doubtless  considerable,  was  by  no  means  what 
it  now  is.  Monmouth  did  not  lead  a  mere  mob  to  attack 
good  soldiers.  For  his  followers  were  not  altogether  without 
a  tincture  of  soldiership ;  and  Feversham's  troops,  when  com- 


dcspise  raw  levies,  pronounced  on  the  vanquished  army,  is  of  much  more  value : 
"  Son  infanterie  fit  fort  bien.  On  cut  de  la  peine  a  les  rompre,  et  les  soldats  com- 
battoient  avec  les  crosses  de  mousquet  et  les  scies  qu'ils  avoient  an  bout  dc  grands 
bastons  au  lieu  de  picques." 

Little  is  now  to  be  learned  by  visiting  the  field  of  battle ;  for  the  face  of  the 
country  has  been  greatly  changed ;  and  the  old  Bussex  Rhine,  on  the  banks  of 
which  the  great  struggle  took  place,  has  long  disappeared.  The  Rhine  now  called 
by  that  name  is  of  later  date,  and  takes  a  different  course. 

I  have  derived  much  assistance  from  Mr.  Roberts's  account  of  the  battle.  Life 
of  Monmouth,  Chap,  xxii.  His  narrative  is  in  the  main  confirmed  by  Dummcr's 
plans. 

*  I  learned  these  things  from  persons  living  close  to  Sedgemoor. 


558  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V, 

pared  with  English  troops  of  our  time,  might  almost  be  called 
a  mob. 

It  was  four  o'clock :  the  sun  was  rising ;  and  the  routed 
army  came  pouring  into  the  streets  of  Bridgewater.  The 
uproar,  the  blood,  the  gashes,  the  ghastly  figures  which  sank 
down  and  never  rose  again,  spread  horror  and  dismay  through 
the  town.  The  pursuers,  too,  were  close  behind.  Those  in- 
habitants who  had  favored  the  insurrection  expected  sack  and 
massacre,  and  implored  the  protection  of  their  neighbors  who 
professed  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  or  had  made  them- 
selves conspicuous  by  Tory  politics;  and  it  is  acknowledged 
by  the  bitterest  of  "Whig  historians  that  this  protection  was 
kindly  and  generously  given.* 

During  that  day  the  conquerors  continued  to  chase  the 
fugitives.  The  neighboring  villagers  long  remembered  with 
pursuit  of  the  what  a  clatter  of  hcrsehoofs  and  what  a  storm  of 
curses  the  whirlwind  of  cavalry  swept  by.  Before 
evening  five  hundred  prisoners  had  been  crowded  into  the 
parish  church  of  "Weston  Zoyland.  Eighty  of  them  were 
wounded ;  and  five  expired  within  the  consecrated  walls. 
Great  numbers  of  laborers  were  impressed  for  the  purpose  of 
burying  the  slain.  A  few,  who  were  notoriously  partial  to 
the  vanquished  side,  were  set  apart  for  the  hideous  office  of 
quartering  the  captives.  The  tithing-men  of  the  neighboring 
parishes  were  busied  in  setting  up  gibbets  and  providing 
chains.  All  this  while  the  bells  of  Weston  Zoyland  and 
Chedzoy  rang  joyously ;  and  the  soldiers  sang  and  rioted  on 
the  moor  amidst  the  corpses.  For  the  farmers  of  the  neigh- 
borhood had  made  haste,  as  soon  as  the  event  of  the  fight  was 
known,  to  send  hogsheads  of  their  best  cider  as  peace-offerings 
to  the  victors.f 

Feversham  passed  for  a  good-natured  man  :  but  he  was  a 

foreigner,  ignorant  of  the  laws  and  careless  of  the  feelings  of 

Military  exe-     the  English.     He  was  accustomed  to  the  military 

license  of  France,  and  had  learned  from  his  great 

kinsman,  the  conqueror  and  devastator  of  the  Palatinate,  not 

*  Oldmixon,  704.       •{•  Locke's  Western  Rebellion ;  Stradling's  Chilton  Priory. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  559 

indeed  how  to  conquer,  but  how  to  devastate.  A  considerable 
number  of  prisoners  were  immediately  selected  for  execution. 
Among  them  was  a  youth  famous  for  his  speed.  Hopes  were 
held  out  to  him  that  his  life  would  be  spared  if  he  could  run 
a  race  with  one  of  the  colts  of  the  marsh.  The  space  through 
which  the  man  kept  up  with  the  horse  is  still  marked  by  well 
known  bounds  on  the  moor,  and  is  about  three-quarters  of  a 
mile.  Feversham  was  not  ashamed,  after  seeing  the  perform- 
ance, to  send  the  wretched  performer  to  the  gallows.  The 
next  day  a  long  line  of  gibbets  appeared  on  the  road  leading 
from  Bridgewater  to  Weston  Zoyland.  On  each  gibbet  a 
prisoner  was  suspended.  Four  of  the  sufferers  were  left  to 
rot  in  irons.* 

Meanwhile  Monmouth,  accompanied  by  Grey,  by  Buyse, 
and  by  a  few  other  friends,  was  flying  from  the  field  of  battle, 
night  of  MOD-  At  Chedzoy  he  stopped  a  moment  to  mount  a  fresh 
mouth.  horse  and  to  hide  his  blue  ribbon  and  his  George. 

He  then  hastened  toward  the  Bristol  Channel.  From  the 
rising  ground  on  the  north  of  the  field  of  battle  he  saw  the 
flash  and  the  smoke  of  the  last  volley  fired  by  his  deserted 
followers.  Before  six  o'clock  he  was  twenty  miles  from 
Sedgemoor.  Some  of  his  companions  advised  him  to  cross 
the  water,  and  to  seek  refuge  in  Wales ;  and  this  would  un- 
doubtedly have  been  his  wisest  course.  He  would  have  been 
in  Wales  many  hours  before  the  news  of  his  defeat  was  known 
there ;  and,  in  a  country  so  wild  and  so  remote  from  the  seat 
of  government,  he  might  have  remained  long  undiscovered. 
He  determined,  however,  to  push  for  Hampshire,  in  the  hope 
that  he  might  lurk  in  the  cabins  of  deer-stealers  among  the 
oaks  of  the  New  Forest,  till  means  of  conveyance  to  the  Con- 
tinent could  be  produced.  He  therefore,  wTith  Grey  and  the 
German,  turned  to  the  south-east.  But  the  way  was  beset  with 
dangers.  The  three  fugitives  had  to  traverse  a  country  in 
which  every  one  already  knew  the  event  of  the  battle,  and  in 
which  no  traveller  of  suspicious  appearance  could  escape  a 
close  scrutiny.  They  rode  on  all  day,  shunning  towns  and 

*  Locke's  Western  Rebellion  ;  Stradling's  Chilton  Priory ;  Oldmixon,  704. 


560  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

villages.  Nor  was  this  so  difficult  as  it  may  now  appear. 
For  men  then  living  could  remember  the  time  when  the  wild- 
deer  ranged  freely  through  a  succession  of  forests  from  the 
banks  of  the  Avon  in  Wiltshire  to  the  southern  coast  of 
Hampshire.*  At  length,  on  Cranbourne  Chase,  the  strength 
of  the  horses  failed.  They  were  therefore  turned  loose. 
The  bridles  and  saddles  were  concealed.  Monmouth  and  his 
friends  procured  rustic  attire,  disguised  themselves,  and  pro- 
ceeded on  foot  toward  the  New  Forest.  They  passed  the 
night  in  the  open  air:  but  before  morning  they  were  sur- 
rounded on  every  side  by  toils.  Lord  Lumley,  who  lay  at 
Blngwood  with  a  strong  body  of  the  Sussex  militia,  had  sent 
forth  parties  in  every  direction.  Sir  William  Portman,  with 
the  Somerset  militia,  had  formed  a  chain  of  posts,  from  the 
sea  to  the  northern  extremity  of  Dorset.  At  five  in  the 
morning  of  the  seventh,  Grey)  who  had  wandered  from  his 
friends,  was  seized  by  two  of  the  Sussex  scouts.  He  submit- 
ted to  his  fate  with  the  calmness  of  one  to  whom  suspense 
was  more  intolerable  than  despair.  "  Since  we  landed,"  he 
said,  "I  have  not  had  one  comfortable  meal  or  one  quiet 
night."  It  could  hardly  be  doubted  that  the  chief  rebel  was 
not  far  off.  The  pursuers  redoubled  their  vigilance  and  activ- 
ity. The  cottages  scattered  over  the  heathy  country  on  the 
boundaries  of  Dorsetshire  and  Hampshire  were  strictly  ex- 
amined by  Lumley ;  and  the  clown  with  whom  Monmouth 
had  changed  clothes  was  discovered.  Portman  came  with  a 
strong  body  of  horse  and  foot  to  assist  in  the  search.  Atten- 
tion was  soon  drawn  to  a  place  well  fitted  to  shelter  fugitives. 
It  was  an  extensive  tract  of  land  separated  by  an  enclosure 
from  the  open  country,  and  divided  by  numerous  hedges  into 
small  fields.  In  some  of  these  fields  the  rye,  the  pease,  and 
the  oats  were  high  enough  to  conceal  a  man.  Others  were 
overgrown  with  fern  and  brambles.  A  poor  woman  reported 
that  she  had  seen  two  strangers  lurking  in  this  covert.  The 
near  prospect  of  reward  animated  the  zeal  of  the  troops.  It 
was  agreed  that  every  man  who  did  his  duty  in  the  search 

*  Aubrey's  Natural  History  of  Wiltshire,  1691. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  561 

should  have  a  share  of  the  promised  five  thousand  pounds. 
The  outer  fence  was  strictly  guarded :  the  space  within  was 
examined  with  indefatigable  diligence;  and  several  dogs  of 
quick  scent  were  turned  out  among  the  bushes.  The  day 
closed  before  the  work  could  be  completed :  but  careful  watch 
was  kept  all  night.  Thirty  times  the  fugitives  ventured  to 
look  through  the  outer  hedge :  but  everywhere  they  found  a 
sentinel  on  the  alert :  once  they  were  seen  and  fired  at ;  they 
then  separated  and  concealed  themselves  in  different  hiding- 
places. 

At  sunrise  the  next  morning  the  search  recommenced,  and 

Buyse  was  found.     He  owned  that  he  had  parted  from  the 

Duke   only  a   few  hours  before.     The   corn   and 

His  capture.  • 

copsewood  were  now  beaten  with  more  care  than 
ever.  At  length  a  gaunt  figure  was  discovered  hidden  in  a 
ditch.  The  pursuers  sprang  on  their  prey.  Some  of  them 
were  about  to  fire :  but  Port-man  forbade  all  violence.  The 
prisoner's  dress  was  that  of  a  shepherd ;  his  beard,  premature- 
ly gray,  was  of  several  days'  growth.  He  trembled  greatly, 
and  was  unable  to  speak.  Even  those  who  had  often  seen 
him  were  at  first  in  doubt  whether  this  were  truly  the  brill- 
iant and  graceful  Monmouth.  His  pockets  were  searched  by 
Portman,  and  in  them  were  found,  among  some  raw  pease 
gathered  in  the  rage  of  hunger,  a  watch,  a  purse  of  gold, 
a  small  treatise  on  fortification,  an  album  filled  with  songs, 
receipts,  prayers,  and  charms,  and  the  George  with  which, 
many  years  before,  King  Charles  the  Second  had  decorated 
his  favorite  son.  Messengers  were  instantly  despatched  to 
Whitehall  with  the  good  news,  and  with  the  George  as  a 
token  that  the  news  was  true.  The  prisoner  was  conveyed 
under  a  strong  guard  to  Bingwood."* 

And  all  was  lost ;  and  nothing  remained  but  that  he  should 
prepare  to  meet  death  as  became  one  who  had  thought  him- 
self not  unworthy  to  wear  the  crown  of  William  the  Con- 
queror and  of  Richard  the  Lion-hearted,  of  the  hero  of  Cressy 

*  Account  of  the  manner  of  taking  the  late  Duke  of  Monmouth,  published  by 
His  Majesty's  command ;  Gazette  de  France,  July  £f,  1685 ;  Eachard,  in.,  7*70 ; 
Burnet,  i.,  664,  and  Dartmouth's  note ;  Van  Citters,  July  ^g,  1685. 

I.— 36 


562  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

and  of  the  hero  of  Aginconrt.  The  captive  might  easily  have 
called  to  mind  other  domestic  examples,  still  better  suited  to 
his  condition.  Within  a  hundred  years,  two  sovereigns  whose 
blood  ran  in  his  veins,  one  of  them  a  delicate  woman,  had 
been  placed  in  the  same  situation  in  which  he  now  stood. 
They  had  shown,  in  the  prison  and  on  the  scaffold,  virtue  of 
which,  in  the  season  of  prosperity,  they  had  seemed  incapable, 
and  had  half  redeemed  great  crimes  and  errors  by  enduring 
with  Christian  meekness  and  princely  dignity  all  that  victori- 
ous enemies  could  inflict.  Of  cowardice  Monmouth  had  nev- 
er been  accused ;  and,  even  had  he  been  wanting  in  constitu- 
tional courage,  it  might  have  been  expected  that  the  defect 
would  be  supplied  by  pride  and  by  despair.  The  eyes  of  the 
whole  world  were  upon  him.  The  latest  generations  would 
know  how,  in  that  extremity,  he  had  borne  himself.  To  the 
brave  peasants  of  the  West  he  owed  it  to  show  that  they  had 
not  poured  forth  their  blood  for  a  leader  unworthy  of  their 
attachment.  To  her  who  had  sacrificed  everything  for  his 
sake  he  owed  it  so  to  bear  himself  that,  though  she  might 
weep  for  him,  she  should  not  blush  for  him.  It  was  not  for 
him  to  lament  and  supplicate.  His  reason,  too,  should  have 
told  him  that  lamentation  and  supplication  would  be  unavail- 
ing. He  had  done  that  which  could  never  be  forgiven.  He 
was  in  the  grasp  of  one  who  never  forgave. 

But  the  fortitude  of  Monmouth  was  not  that  highest  sort 
of  fortitude  which  is  derived  from  reflection  and  from  self- 
respect  ;  nor  had  nature  given  him  one  of  those  stout  hearts 
from  which  neither  adversity  nor  peril  can  extort  any  sign  of 
weakness.  His  courage  rose  and  fell  with  his  animal  spirits. 
It  was  sustained  on  the  field  of  battle  by  the  excitement  of 
action,  by  the  hope  of  victory,  by  the  strange  influence  of 
sympathy.  All  such  aids  were  now  taken  away.  The  spoiled 
darling  of  the  court  and  of  the  populace,  accustomed  to  be 
loved  and  worshipped  wherever  he  appeared,  was  now  sur- 
rounded by  stern  jailers  in  whose  eyes  he  read  his  doom. 
Yet  a  few  hours  of  gloomy  seclusion,  and  he  must  die  a  vio- 
lent and  shameful  death.  His  heart  sank  within  him.  Life 
seemed  worth  purchasing  by  any  humiliation  ;  nor  could  his 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  563 

mind,  always  feeble,  and  now  distracted  by  terror,  perceive 
that  humiliation  must  degrade  but  could  not  save  him. 

As  soon  as  he  reached  Ringwood  he  wrote  to  the  King. 
The  letter  was  that  of  a  man  whom  a  craven  fear  had  made 
HIS  letter  to  insensible  to  shame.  He  professed  in  vehement 
terras  his  remorse  for  his  treason.  He  affirmed 
that,  when  he  promised  his  cousins  at  the  Hague  not  to  raise 
troubles  in  England,  he  had  fully  meant  to  keep  his  word. 
Unhappily  he  had  afterward  been  seduced  from  his  allegiance 
by  some  horrid  people  who  had  heated  his  mind  by  calumnies 
and  misled  him  by  sophistry :  but  now  he  abhorred  them  :  he 
abhorred  himself.  He  begged  in  piteous  terms  that  he  might 
be  admitted  to  the  royal  presence.  There  was  a  secret  which 
he  could  not  trust  to  paper,  a  secret  which  lay  in  a  single 
word,  and  which,  if  he  spoke  that  word,  would  secure  the 
throne  against  all  danger.  On  the  following  day  he  despatch- 
ed letters,  imploring  the  Queen  Dowager  and  the  Lord  Treas- 
urer to  intercede  in  his  behalf.* 

When  it  was  known  in  London  how  he  had  abased  himself 
the  general  surprise  was  great ;  and  no  man  was  more  amazed 
than  Barillon,  who  had  resided  in  England  during  two  bloody 
proscriptions,  and  had  seen  numerous  victims,  both  of  the 
Opposition  and  of  the  Court,  submit  to  their  fate  without 
womanish  entreaties  and  lamentations,  f 

Monmouth  and  Grey  remained  at  Ringwood  two  days. 
They  were  then  carried  up  to  London,  under  the  guard  of  a 
He  is  carried  large  body  of  regular  troops  and  militia.  In  the 
to  London.  coach  with  the  Duke  was  an  officer  whose  orders 
were  to  stab  the  prisoner  if  a  rescue  were  attempted.  At 
every  town  along  the  road  the  trainbands  of  the  neighborhood 
had  been  mustered  under  the  command  of  the  principal  gen- 
try. The  march  lasted  three  days,  and  terminated  at  Vaux- 
hall,  where  a  regiment,  commanded  by  George  Legge,  Lord 

*  The  letter  to  the  King  was  printed  at  the  time  by  authority ;  that  to  the  Queen 
Dowager  will  be  found  in  Sir  H.  Ellis's  Original  Letters ;  that  to  Rochester  in  the 
Clarendon  Correspondence. 

f  "  On  trouve,"  he  wrote,  "  fort  a  redire  icy  qu'il  ayt  fait  une  chose  si  peu  ordi- 
naire aux  Anglois  "  (July  £f ,  1685). 


564  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cfl.V. 

Dartmouth,  was  in  readiness  to  receive  the  prisoners.  They 
were  put  on  board  of  a  state  barge,  and  carried  down  the 
river  to  Whitehall  Stairs.  Lumley  and  Portman  had  alter- 
nately watched  the  Duke  day  and  night  till  they  had  brought 
him  within  the  walls  of  the  palace.* 

Both  the  demeanor  of  Monrnouth  and  that  of  Grey,  during 
the  journey,  filled  all  observers  with  surprise.  Momnouth 
was  altogether  unnerved,  Grey  was  not  only  calm  but  cheer- 
ful, talked  pleasantly  of  horses,  dogs,  and  field-sports,  and  even 
made  jocose  allusions  to  the  perilous  situation  in  which  he 
stood. 

The  King  cannot  be  blamed  for  determining  that  Mon- 
mouth  should  suffer  death.  Every  man  who  heads  a  rebel- 
lion against  an  established  government  stakes  his  life  on  the 
event ;  and  rebellion  was  the  smallest  part  of  Monmouth's 
crime.  He  had  declared  against  his  uncle  a  war  without 
quarter.  In  the  manifesto  put  forth  at  Lyme,  James  had 
been  held  up  to  execration  as  an  incendiary,  as  an  assassin 
who  had  strangled  one  innocent  man  and  cut  the  throat  of 
another,  and,  lastly,  as  the  poisoner  of  his  own  brother.  To 
spare  an  enemy  who  had  not  scrupled  to  resort  to  such  ex- 
tremities would  have  been  an  act  of  rare,  perhaps  of  blame- 
able  generosity.  But  to  see  him  and  not  to  spare  him  was  an 
outrage  on  humanity  and  decency,  f  This  outrage  the  King 
resolved  to  commit.  The  arms  of  the  prisoner  were  bound 
behind  him  with  a  silken  cord ;  and,  thus  secured,  he  was 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  implacable  kinsman  whom 
he  had  wronged. 

Then  Monrnouth  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  and  crawled 
to  the  King's  feet.  He  wept.  He  tried  to  embrace  his  uncle's 

ins  interview  knees  with  his  pinioned  arms.  He  begged  for  life, 
with  the  King.  oniy  ]ifej  life  at  any  price  jje  owned  that  iie  had 

been  guilty  of  a  great  crime,  but  tried  to  throw  the  blame  on 

*  Account  of  the- manner  of  taking  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  ;  Gazette,  July  16, 
1685 ;  Van  Citters,  July  £|. 

f  Barillon  was  evidently  much  shocked.  "  II  se  vient,"  he  says,  "  de  passer  icy 
une  chose  bien  extraordinaire  et  fort  oppos6e  a  1'usage  ordinaire  des  autres  mi. 
tions"( July  £f,  1685). 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  565 

others,  particularly  on  Argyle,  who  would  rather  have  put  his 
legs  into  the  boots  than  have  saved  his  own  life  by  such  base- 
ness. By  the  ties  of  kindred,  by  the  memory  of  the  late  King, 
who  had  been  the  best  and  truest  of  brothers,  the  unhappy 
man  adjured  James  to  show  some  mercy.  James  gravely  re- 
plied that  this  repentance  was  of  the  latest,  that  he  was  sorry 
for  the  misery  which  the  prisoner  had  brought  on  himself,  but 
that  the  case  was  not  one  for  lenity.  A  Declaration,  filled 
-with  atrocious  calumnies,  had  been  put  forth.  The  regal  title 
had  been  assumed.  For  treasons  so  aggravated  there  could 
be  no  pardon  on  this  side  of  the  grave.  The  poor  terrified 
Duke  vowed  that  he  had  never  wished  to  take  the  Crown,  but 
had  been  led  into  that  fatal  error  by  others.  As  to  the  Dec- 
laration, he  had  not  written  it :  he  had  not  read  it :  he  had 
signed  it  without  looking  at  it :  it  was  all  the  work  of  Fer- 
guson, that  bloody  villain  Ferguson.  "  Do  you  expect  me 
to  believe,"  said  James,  with  contempt  but  too  well  merited, 
"  that  you  set  your  hand  to  a  paper  of  such  moment  without 
knowing  what  it  contained  ?"  One  depth  of  infamy  only 
remained  ;  and  even  to  that  the  prisoner  descended.  He 
was  pre  eminently  the  champion  of  the  Protestant  religion. 
The  interest  of  that  religion  had  been  his  plea  for  conspiring 
against  the  government  of  his  father,  and  for  bringing  on  his 
country  the  miseries  of  civil  war :  yet  he  was  not  ashamed  to 
hint  that  he  was  inclined  to  be  reconciled  to  the  Church  of 
Rome.  The  King  eagerly  offered  him  spiritual  assistance,  but 
said  nothing  of  pardon  or  respite.  "  Is  there  then  no  hope  ?" 
asked  Monmouth.  James  turned  away  in  silence.  Then 
Monmouth  strove  to  rally  his  courage,  rose  from  his  knees, 
and  retired  with  a  firmness  which  he  had  not  shown  since  his 
overthrow.* 

Grey  was  introduced  next.  He  behaved  with  a  propriety 
and  fortitude  which  moved  even  the  stern  and  resentful 
King,  frankly  owned  himself  guilty,  made  no  excuses,  and 
did  not  once  stoop  to  ask  his  life.  Both  the  prisoners  were 

*  Burnet,  i.,  644;  Evelyn's  Diary,  July  15;  Sir  J.  Bramston's  Memoirs;  Reres- 
by's  Memoirs;  James  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  July  14,  1685;  Barillon,  July  ^£ ; 
Buccleuch  MS. 


506  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

sent  to  the  Tower  by  water.  There  was  no  tumult;  but 
many  thousands  of  people,  with  anxiety  and  sorrow  in  their 
faces,  tried  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  captives.  The  Duke's 
resolution  failed  as  soon  as  he  had  left  the  royal  presence. 
On  his  way  to  his  prison  he  bemoaned  himself,  accused  his 
followers,  and  abjectly  implored  the  intercession  of  Dart- 
mouth. "  I  know,  my  Lord,  that  you  loved  my  father.  For 
his  sake,  for  God's  sake,  try  if  there  be  any  room  for  mercy." 
Dartmouth  replied  that  the  King  had  spoken  the  truth,  and 
that  a  subject  who  assumed  the  regal  title  excluded  himself 
from  all  hope  of  pardon.* 

Soon  after  Mon mouth  had  been  lodged  in  the  Tower,  he 
was  informed  that  his  wife  had,  by  the  royal  command,  been 
sent  to  see  him.  She  was  accompanied  by  the  Earl  of  Clar- 
endon, Keeper  of  the  Privy  Seal.  Her  husband  received  her 
very  coldly,  and  addressed  almost  all  his  discourse  to  Clar- 
endon, whose  intercession  he  earnestly  implored.  Claren- 
don held  out  no  hopes ;  and  that  same  evening  two  prelates, 
Turner,  Bishop  of  Ely,  and  Ken,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells, 
arrived  at  the  Tower  with  a  solemn  message  from  the  King. 
It  was  Monday  night.  On  Wednesday  morning  Monmouth 
was  to  die. 

He  was  greatly  agitated.  The  blood  left  his  cheeks ;  and 
it  was  some  time  before  he  could  speak.  Most  of  the  short 
time  which  remained  to  him  he  wasted  in  vain  attempts  to 
obtain,  if  not  a  pardon,  at  least  a  respite.  He  wrote  piteous 
letters  to  the  King  and  to  several  courtiers,  but  in  vain. 
Some  Roman  Catholic  divines  were  sent  to  him  from  White- 
hall. But  they  soon  discovered  that,  though  he  would  gladly 
have  purchased  his  life  by  renouncing  the  religion  of  which 


*  James  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  July  14,  1685  ;  Dutch  despatch  of  the  same 
date;  Dartmouth's  note  on  Burnet,  i.,  646;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary  (1848).  A 
copy  of  this  Diary,  from  July,  1685,  to  Sept.,  1690,  is  among  the  Mackintosh  papers. 
To  the  rest  I  was  allowed  access  by  the  kindness  of  the  Warden  of  All  Souls'  Col- 
lege, where  the  original  MS.  is  deposited.  The  Delegates  of  the  Press  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford  have  since  published  the  whole,  in  six  substantial  volumes,  which 
will,  I  am  afraid,  find  little  favor  with  readers  who  seek  only  for  amusement,  but 
which  will  always  be  useful  as  materials  for  history  (1857). 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  567 

he  had  professed  himself  in  an  especial  manner  the  defender, 
yet,  if  he  was  to  die,  he  would  as  soon  die  without  their  abso- 
lution as  with  it.* 

Nor  were  Ken  and  Turner  much  better  pleased  with  his 
frame  of  mind.  The  doctrine  of  non-resistance  was,  in  their 
view,  as  in  the  view  of  most  of  their  brethren,  the  distinguish- 
ing badge  of  the  Anglican  Church.  The  two  Bishops  insist- 
ed on  Monmouth's  owning  that,  in  drawing  the  sword  against 
the  government,  he  had  committed  a  great  sin  ;  and,  on  this 
point,  they  found  him  obstinately  heterodox.  Nor  was  this 
his  only  heresy.  He  maintained  that  his  connection  with 
Lady  Wentworth  w7as  blameless  in  the  sight  of  God.  He 
had  been  married,  he  said,  when  a  child.  He  had  never 
cared  for  his  Duchess.  The  happiness  which  he  had  not 
found  at  home  he  had  sought  in  a  round  of  loose  amours, 
condemned  by  religion  and  morality.  Henrietta  had  reclaim- 
ed him  from  a  life  of  vice.  To  her  he  had  been  strictly 
constant.  They  had,  by  common  consent,  offered  up  fervent 
prayers  for  the  divine  guidance.  After  those  prayers  they 
had  found  their  affection  for  each  other  strengthened  ;  and 
they  could  then  no  longer  doubt  that,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
they  were  a  wedded  pair.  The  Bishops  wrere  so  much  scan- 
dalized by  this  view  of  the  conjugal  relation  that  they  re- 
fused to  administer  the  sacrament  to  the  prisoner.  All  that 
they  could  obtain  from  him  was  a  promise  that,  during  the 
single  night  which  still  remained  to  him,  he  would  pray  to 
be  enlightened  if  he  were  in  error. 

On  the  Wednesday  morning,  at  his  particular  request,  Doc- 
tor Thomas  Tenison,  who  then  held  the  vicarage  of  Saint 
Martin's,  and,  in  that  important  cure,  had  obtained  the  high 
esteem  of  the  public,  came  to  the  Tower.  From  Tenison, 
whose  opinions  were  known  to  be  moderate,  the  Duke  ex- 
pected more  indulgence  than  Ken  and  Turner  were  disposed 
to  show.  But  Tenison,  whatever  might  be  his  sentiments 
concerning  non-resistance  in  the  abstract,  thought  the  late  re- 

*  Buccleuch  MS. ;  Life  of  James  the  Second,  ii.,  37,  Orig.  Mem. ;  Van  Citters, 
July  ^|,  1685 ;  Gazette  de  France,  August  fa. 


568  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

bellion  rash  and  wicked,  and  considered  Momnouth's  notion 
respecting  marriage  as  a  most  dangerous  delusion.  Mon- 
mouth  was  obstinate.  He  had  prayed,  he  said,  for  the  di- 
vine direction.  His  sentiments  remained  unchanged  ;  and  he 
could  not  doubt  that  they  were  correct.  Tenison's  exhorta- 
tions were  in  a  milder  tone  than  those  of  the  Bishops.  But 
lie,  like  them,  thought  that  he  should  not  be  justified  in  ad- 
ministering the  Eucharist  to  one  whose  penitence  was  of  so 
unsatisfactory  a  nature.* 

The  hour  drew  near:  all  hope  was  over;  and  Monmouth 
had  passed  from  pusillanimous  fear  to  the  apathy  of  despair. 
His  children  were  brought  to  his  room  that  he  might  take 
leave  of  them,  and  were  followed  by  his  wife.  He  spoke  to 
her  kindly,  but  without  emotion.  Though  she  was  a  woman 
of  great  strength  of  mind,  and  had  little  cause  to  love  him, 
her  misery  was  such  that  none  of  the  by-standers  could  re- 
frain from  weeping.  He  alone  was  unmoved. f 

It  was  ten  o'clock.     The  coach  of  the  Lieutenant  of  the 

Tower  was  ready.     Monmouth  requested  his  spiritual  advisers 

to  accompany  him  to  the  place  of  execution :  and 

His  execution.  J  , 

they  consented :  but  they  told  him  that,  in  their 
judgment,  lie  was  about  to  die  in  a  perilous  state  of  mind,  and 
that,  if  they  attended  him,  it  would  be  their  duty  to  exhort 
him  to  the  last.  As  he  passed  along  the  ranks  of  the  guards 
he  saluted  them  with  a  smile ;  and  he  mounted  the  scaffold 
with  a  firm  tread.  Tower  Hill  was  covered  up  to  the  chim- 
ney -  tops  with  an  innumerable  multitude  of  gazers,  who,  in 
awful  silence,  broken  only  by  sighs  and  the  noise  of  weeping, 
listened  for  the  last  accents  of  the  darling  of  the  people.  "  I 
shall  say  little,"  he  began.  "  I  come  here,  not  to  speak,  but  to 
die.  I  die  a  Protestant  of  the  Church  of  England."  The 
Bishops  interrupted  him,  and  told  him  that,  unless  he  ac- 
knowledged resistance  to  be  sinful,  he  was  no  member  of 
their  church.  He  went  on  to  speak  of  his  Henrietta.  She 
was,  he  said,  a  young  lady  of  virtue  and  honor.  He  loved 

*  Buccleuch  MS. ;  Life  of  James  the  Second,  ii.,  37,  38,  Orig.  Mem. ;  Burnet,  i , 
645 ;  Tenisou's  account  in  Kennet,  iii.,  432,  ed.  1719. 
f  Buccleuch  MS. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  569 

her  to  the  last,  and  he  could  not  die  without  giving  utterance 
to  his  feelings.  The  Bishops  again  interfered,  and  begged 
him  not  to  use  such  language.  Some  altercation  followed. 
The  divines  have  been  accused  of  dealing  harshly  with  the 
dying  man.  But  they  appear  to  have  only  discharged  what,  in 
their  view,  was  a  sacred  duty.  Monmouth  knew  their  princi- 
ples, and,  if  he  wished  to  avoid  their  importunity,  should  have 
dispensed  with  their  attendance.  Their  general  arguments 
against  resistance  had  no  eft'ect  on  him.  But  when  they  re- 
minded him  of  the  ruin  which  he  had  brought  on  his  brave 
and  loving  followers,  of  the  blood  which  had  been  shed,  of  the 
souls  which  had  been  sent  unprepared  to  the  great  account,  he 
wras  touched,  and  said,  in  a  softened  voice,  "  I  do  own  that.  I 
am  sorry  that  it  ever  happened."  They  prayed  with  him  long 
and  fervently ;  and  he  joined  in  their  petitions  till  they  in- 
voked a  blessing  on  the  King.  He  remained  silent.  "  Sir," 
said  one  of  the  Bishops,  "  do  you  not  pray  for  the  King  with 
us?"  Monmouth  paused  some  time,  and,  after  an  internal 
struggle,  exclaimed,  "Amen."  But  it  was  in  vain  that  the 
prelates  implored  him  to  address  to  the  soldiers  and  to  the 
people  a  few  words  on  the  duty  of  obedience  to  the  govern- 
ment. "  I  will  make  no  speeches,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Only 
ten  words,  my  Lord."  He  turned  away,  called  his  servant, 
and  put  into  the  man's  hand  a  toothpick  case,  the  last  token 
of  ill-starred  love.  "  Give  it,"  he  said,  "  to  that  person."  He 
then  accosted  John  Ketch  the  executioner,  a  wretch  who  had 
butchered  many  brave  and  noble  "victims,  and  whose  name 
has,  during  a  century  and  a  half,  been  vulgarly  given  to  all 
who  have  succeeded  him  in  his  odious  office.*  "  Here,"  said 
the  Duke,  "  are  six  guineas  for  you.  Do  not  hack  me  as  you 


*  The  name  of  Ketch  was  often  associated  with  that  of  Jeffreys  in  the  lampoons 
of  those  days. 

"  While  Jeffreys  on  the  bench,  Ketch  on  the  gibbet  sits," 

says  one  poet.  In  the  year  which  followed  Monmouth's  execution  Ketch  was  turned 
out  of  his  office  for  insulting  one  of  the  sheriffs,  and  was  succeeded  by  a  butcher 
named  Rose.  But  in  four  months  Rose  himself  was  hanged  at  Tyburn,  and  Ketch 
was  reinstated.  Luttrell's  Diary,  January  20,  and  May  28,  1686.  See  a  curious 
note  by  Dr.  Gre3T,  on  Hudibras,  Part  III.,  canto  ii.,  line  1534. 


570  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V, 

did  my  Lord  Russell.  I  have  heard  that  you  struck  him  three 
or  four  times.  My  servant  will  give  you  some  more  gold  if 
you  do  the  work  well."  He  then  undressed,  felt  the  edge  of 
the  axe,  expressed  some  fear  that  it  was  not  sharp  enough,  and 
laid  his  head  on  the  block.  The  divines  in  the  mean  time 
continued  to  ejaculate  with  great  energy,  "  God  accept  your 
repentance !  God  accept  your  imperfect  repentance !" 

The  hangman  addressed  himself  to  his  office.  But  he  had 
been  disconcerted  by  what  the  Duke  had  said.  The  first  blow 
inflicted  only  a  slight  wound.  The  Duke  struggled,  rose  from 
the  block,  and  looked  reproachfully  at  the  executioner.  The 
head  sank  down  once  more.  The  stroke  was  repeated  again 
and  again ;  but  still  the  neck  was  not  severed,  and  the  body 
continued  to  move.  Yells  of  rage  and  horror  rose  from  the 
crowd.  Ketch  flung  down  the  axe  with  a  curse.  "  I  cannot 
do  it,"  he  said ;  "  my  heart  fails  me."  "  Take  up  the  axe, 
man,"  cried  the  Sheriff.  "Fling  him  over  the  rails!"  roared 
the  mob.  At  length  the  axe  was  taken  up.  Two  more  blows 
extinguished  the  last  remains  of  life ;  but  a  knife  was  used 
to  separate  the  head  from  the  shoulders.  The  crowd  was 
wrought  up  to  such  an  ecstasy  of  rage  that  the  executioner 
was  in  danger  of  being  torn  in  pieces,  and  was  conveyed 
away  under  a  strong  guard.* 

In  the  mean  time  many  handkerchiefs  were  dipped  in  the 
Duke's  blood  ;  for  by  a  large  part  of  the  multitude  he  was  re- 
garded as  a  martyr  who  had  died  for  the  Protestant  religion. 
The  head  and  body  were  placed  in  a  coffin  covered  with  black 
velvet,  and  were  laid  privately  under  the  communion-table  of 
St.  Peter's  Chapel  in  the  Tower.  Within  four  years  the  pave- 
ment of  the  chancel  was  again  disturbed,  and  hard  by  the  re- 
mains of  Monmouth  were  laid  the  remains  of  Jeffreys.  In 
truth  there  is  no  sadder  spot  on  the  earth  than  that  little 
cemetery.  Death  is  there  associated,  not,  as  in  Westminster 
Abbey  and  Saint  Paul's,  with  genius  and  virtue,  with  public- 
veneration  and  imperishable  renown  ;  not,  as  in  our  humblest 

*  Account  of  the  execution  of  Monmouth,  signed  by  the  divines  who  attended 
him ;  Buccleuch  MS. ;  Burnet,  i.,  646 ;  Van  Citters,  July  -||,  1685 ;  LuttrelPs  Diary ; 
Evelyn's  Diary,  July  15  ;  Barillon,  July  £f 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  571 

churches  and  church -yards,  with  everything  that  is  most  en- 
dearing in  social  and  domestic  charities ;  but  with  whatever  is 
darkest  in  human  nature  and  in  human  destiny,  with  the  sav- 
age triumph  of  implacable  enemies,  with  the  inconstancy,  the 
ingratitude,  the  cowardice  of  friends,  with  all  the  miseries  of 
fallen  greatness  and  of  blighted  fame.  Thither  have  been 
carried,  through  successive  ages,  by  the  rude  hands  of  jailers, 
without  one  mourner  following,  the  bleeding  relics  of  men 
who  had  been  the  captains  of  armies,  the  leaders  of  parties, 
the  oracles  of  senates,  and  the  ornaments  of  courts.  Thither 
was  borne,  before  the  window  where  Jane  Grey  was  praying, 
the  mangled  corpse  of  Guilford  Dudley.  Edward  Seymour, 
Duke  of  Somerset,  and  Protector  of  the  realm,  reposes  there 
by  the  brother  whom  he  murdered.  There  has  mouldered 
away  the  headless  trunk  of  John  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester 
and  Cardinal  of  Saint  Yitalis,  a  man  worthy  to  have  lived  in 
a  better  age,  and  to  have  died  in  a  better  cause.  There  are 
laid  John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Northumberland,  Lord  High  Ad- 
miral, and  Thomas  Cromwell,  Earl  of  Essex,  Lord  High  Treas- 
urer. There,  too,  is  another  Essex,  on  whom  nature  and  fort- 
une had  lavished  all  their  bounties  in  vain,  and  whom  valor, 
grace,  genius,  royal  favor,  popular  applause,  conducted  to  an 
early  and  ignominious  doom,  Not  far  off  sleep  two  chiefs 
of  the  great  house  of  Howard — Thomas,  fourth  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, and  Philip,  eleventh  Earl  of  Arundel.  Here  and  there, 
among  the  thick  graves  of  unquiet  and  aspiring  statesmen,  lie 
more  delicate  sufferers ;  Margaret  of  Salisbury,  the  last  of  the 
proud  name  of  Plantagenet,  and  those  two  fair  Queens  who 
perished  by  the  jealous  rage  of  Henry.  Such  was  the  dust 
with  which  the  dust  of  Momnouth  mingled.* 

Yet  a  few  months,  and  the  quiet  village  of  Toddington,  in 
Bedfordshire,  witnessed  a  still  sadder  funeral.  Near  that  vil- 
lage stood  an  ancient  and  stately  hall,  the  seat  of  the  Went- 
worths.  The  transept  of  the  parish  church  had  long  been 
their  burial-place.  To  that  burial-place,  in  the  spring  which 

*  I  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  my  disgust  at  the  barbarous  stupidity  which 
has  transformed  this  most  interesting  little  church  into  the  likeness  of  a  meeting- 
house in  a  manufacturing  town. 


572  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

followed  the  death  of  Monmouth,  was  borne  the  coffin  of 
the  young  Baroness  Wentworth  of  Ncttlestede.  Her  family 
reared  a  sumptuous  mausoleum  over  her  remains :  but  a  less 
costly  memorial  of  her  was  long  contemplated  with  far  deep- 
er interest.  Her  name,  carved  by  the  hand  of  him  whom  she 
loved  too  well,  was,  a  few  years  ago,  still  discernible  on  a  tree 
in  the  adjoining  park. 

It  was  not  by  Lady  "Wentworth  alone  that  the  memory  of 
Monmouth  was  cherished  with  idolatrous  fondness.  His  hold 
HIS  memory  on  tne  hearts  of  the  people  lasted  till  the  genera- 
thTco'rmon  tion  which  had  seen  him  had  passed  away.  Kib- 
peopie.  bons,  buckles,  and  other  trifling  articles  of  apparel 

which  he  had  worn  were  treasured  up  as  precious  relics  by 
those  who  had  fought  under  him  at  Sedgemoor.  Old  men 
who  long  survived  him  desired,  when  they  were  dying,  that 
these  trinkets  might  be  buried  with  them.  One  button  of 
gold  thread  which  narrowly  escaped  this  fate  may  still  be 
seen  at  a  house  which  overlooks  the  field  of  battle.  Nay, 
such  was  the  devotion  of  the  people  to  their  unhappy  favor- 
ite that,  in  the  face  of  the  strongest  evidence  by  which  the 
fact  of  a  death  was  ever  verified,  many  continued  to  cherish  a 
hope  that  he  was  still  living,  and  that  he  would  again  appear 
in  arms.  A  person,  it  was  said,  who  was  remarkably  like 
Monmouth  had  sacrificed  himself  to  save  the  Protestant  hero. 
The  vulgar  long  continued,  at  every  important  crisis,  to  whis- 
per that  the  time  was  at  hand,  and  that  King  Monmouth 
would  soon  show  himself.  In  1686,  a  knave  who  had  pre- 
tended to  be  the  Duke,  and  had  levied  contributions  in  sev- 
eral villages  of  Wiltshire,  was  apprehended,  and  whipped 
from  Newgate  to  Tyburn.  In  1698,  when  England  had  long 
enjoyed  constitutional  freedom  under  a  new  dynasty,  the  son 
of  an  innkeeper  passed  himself  on  the  yeomanry  of  Sussex 
as  their  beloved  Monmouth,  and  defrauded  many  who  were 
by  no  means  of  the  lowest  class.  Five  hundred  pounds  were 
collected  for  him.  The  farmers  provided  him  with  a  horse. 
Their  wives  sent  him  baskets  of  chickens  and  ducks,  and 
were  lavish,  it  was  said,  of  favors  of  a  more  tender  kind ; 
for,  in  gallantry  at  least,  the  counterfeit  was  a  not  unworthy 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  573 

representative  of  the  original.  When  this  impostor  was 
thrown  into  prison  for  his  fraud,  his  followers  maintained  him 
in  luxury.  Several  of  them  appeared  at  the  bar  to  counte- 
nance him  when  he  was  tried  at  the  Horsham  assizes.  So 
long  did  this  delusion  last,  that,  when  George  the  Third  had 
been  some  years  on  the  English  throne,  Voltaire  thought  it 
necessary  gravely  to  confute  the  hypothesis  that  the  man  in 
the  iron  mask  was  the  Duke  of  Monmouth.* 

It  is,  perhaps,  a  fact  scarcely  less  remarkable  that,  to  this 
day,  the  inhabitants  of  some  parts  of  the  West  of  England, 
when  any  bill  affecting  their  interests  is  before  the  House 
of  Lords,  think  themselves  entitled  to  claim  the  help  of  the 
Duke  of  Buccleuch,  the  descendant  of  the  unfortunate  leader 
for  whom  their  ancestors  bled. 

The  history  of  Mon mouth  would  alone  suffice  to  refute  the 
imputation  of  inconstancy  which  is  so  frequently  thrown  on 
the  common  people.  The  common  people  are  sometimes 
inconstant ;  for  they  are  human  beings.  But  that  they  are 
inconstant  as  compared  with  the  educated  classes,  with  aris- 
tocracies, or  with  princes,  may  be  confidently  denied.  It 
would  be  easy  to  name  demagogues  whose  popularity  has  re- 
mained undiminished  while  sovereigns  and  parliaments  have 
withdrawn  their  confidence  from  a  long  succession  of  states- 

*  Observator,  August  1,  1685  ;  Gazette  de  France,  Nov.  2,  1686 ;  Letter  from 
Humphrey  Wanley,  d^ted  Aug.  25,  1698,  in  the  Aubrey  Collection;  Voltaire,  Diet. 
Phil.  There  are,  in  the  Pepysian  Collection,  several  ballads  written  after  Mon- 
mouth's  death,  which  represent  him  as  living,  and  predict  his  speedy  return.  I 
will  give  two  specimens  : 

"  Though  this  is  a  dismal  story 

Of  the  fall  of  my  design, 
Yet  I'll  come  again  in  glory, 

If  I  live  till  eighty-nine ; 
For  I'll  have  a  stronger  army, 
And  of  ammunition  store." 
Again: 

"  Then  shall  Monmouth  in  his  glories 
Unto  his  English  friends  appear, 
And  will  stifle  all  such  stories 
As  are  vended  everywhere. 

"  They'll  see  I  was  not  so  degraded, 

To  be  taken  gathering  pease, 
Or  in  a  cock  of  hay  up  braided. 
What  strange  stories  now  are  these  !" 


574  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V- 

men.  When  Swift  had  survived  his  faculties  many  years,  the 
Irish  populace  still  continued  to  light  bonfires  on  his  birth- 
day, in  commemoration  of  the  services  which  they  fancied 
that  he  had  rendered  to  his  country  when  his  mind  \vas  in 
full  vigor.  While  seven  administrations  were  raised  to  power 
and  hurled  from  it  in  consequence  of  court  intrigues  or  of 
changes  in  the  sentiments  of  the  higher  classes  of  society,  the 
profligate  Wilkes  retained  his  hold  on  the  affections  of  a 
rabble  whom  he  pillaged  and  ridiculed.  Politicians,  who,  in 
1807,  had  sought  to  curry  favor  with  George  the  Third  by  de- 
fending Caroline  of  Brunswick,  were  not  ashamed,  in  1820, 
to  curry  favor  with  George  the  Fourth  by  persecuting  her. 
But  in  1820,  as  in  1807,  the  whole  body  of  working-men  was 
fanatically  devoted  to  her  cause.  So  it  was  with  Monmouth. 
In  1680  he  had  been  adored  alike  by  the  gentry  and  by  the 
peasantry  of  the  West.  In  1685  he  came  again.  To  the  gen- 
try he  had  become  an  object  of  aversion :  but  by  the  peasant- 
ry he  was  still  loved  with  a  love  strong  as  death,  with  a  love 
not  to  be  extinguished  by  misfortunes  or  faults,  by  the  flight 
from  Sedgemoor,  by  the  letter  from  Ringwood,  or  by  the 
tears  and  abject  supplications  at  Whitehall.  The  charge 
which  may  with  justice  be  brought  against  the  common  peo- 
ple is,  not  that  they  are  inconstant,  but  that  they  almost 
invariably  choose  their  favorite  so  ill  that  their  constancy  is  a 
vice,  and  not  a  virtue. 

While  the  execution  of  Monmouth  occupied  the  thoughts 

of  the  Londoners,  the  counties  which  had  risen  against  the 

government  were  enduring  all  that  a  ferocious  sol- 

Crueltiesofthe    «.  . 

soldiers  in  the   diery  could  inflict.    I1  evei'sliam  had  been  summoned 

West.  ~  ii'ii 

to  the  court,  where  honors  and  rewards  which  he 
little  deserved  awaited  him.  He  was  made  a  Knight  of  the 
Garter  and  Captain  of  the  first  and  most  lucrative  troop  of 
Life  Guards:  but  Court  and  City  laughed  at  his  military  ex- 
ploits ;  and  the  wit  of  Buckingham  gave  forth  its  last  feeble 
flash  at  the  expense  of  the  general  who  had  won  a  battle  in 
bed.*  Feversharn  left  in  command  at  Bridgewater  Colonel 

*  London  Gazette,  August  3,  1G85  ;  the  Battle  of  Sedgemoor,  a  Farc& 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  575 

Percy  Kirke,  a  military  adventurer  whose  vices  had  been  devel- 
oped by  the  worst  of  all  schools,  Tangier.   Kirke  had 

Kirke.  r    .        •>  . 

during  some  years  commanded  the  garrison  of  that 
town,  and  had  been  constantly  employed  in  hostilities  against 
tribes  of  foreign  barbarians,  ignorant  of  the  laws  which  regu- 
late the  warfare  of  civilized  and  Christian  nations.  Within 
the  ramparts  of  his  fortress  he  was  a  despotic  prince.  The 
only  check  on  his  tyranny  wyas  the  fear  of  being  called  to  ac- 
count by  a  distant  and  a  careless  government.  He  might, 
therefore,  safely  proceed  to  the  most  audacious  excesses  of 
rapacity,  licentiousness,  and  cruelty.  He  lived  with  bound- 
less dissoluteness,  and  procured  by  extortion  the  means  of 
indulgence.  No  goods  could  be  sold  till  Kirke  had  had  the 
refusal  of  them.  No  question  of  right  could  be  decided  till 
Kirke  had  been  bribed.  Once,  merely  from  a  malignant  whim, 
he  staved  all  the  wine  in  a  vintner's  cellar.  On  another  oc- 
casion he  drove  all  the  Jews  from  Tangier.  Two  of  them 
he  sent  to  the  Spanish  Inquisition,  which  forthwith  burned 
them.  Under  this  iron  domination  scarce  a  complaint  was 
heard  ;  for  hatred  was  effectually  kept  down  by  terror.  Two 
persons  who  had  been  refractory  were  found  murdered ; 
and  it  was  universally  believed  that  they  had  been  slain  by 
Kirke's  order.  When  his  soldiers  displeased  him  he  flogged 
them  with  merciless  severity :  but  he  indemnified  them  by 
permitting  them  to  sleep  on  watch,  to  reel  dnmk  about 
the  streets,  to  rob,  beat,  and  insult  the  merchants  and  the 
laborers. 

When  Tangier  was  abandoned,  Kirke  returned  to  England. 
He  still  continued  to  command  his  old  soldiers,  who  were 
designated  sometimes  as  the  First  Tangier  Regiment,  and 
sometimes  as  Queen  Catharine's  Regiment.  As  they  had 
been  levied  for  the  purpose  of  waging  war  on  an  infidel  na- 
tion, they  bore  on  their  flag  a  Christian  emblem,  the  Paschal 
Lamb.  In  allusion  to  this  device,  and  with  a  bitterly  iron- 
ical meaning,  these  men,  the  rudest  and  most  ferocious  in 
the  English  army,  were  called  Kirke's  Lambs.  The  regi- 
ment, now  the  second  of  the  line,  still  retains  this  ancient 
badge,  which  is  however  thrown  into  the  shade  by  decora- 


576  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

tions  honorably  earned  in  Egypt,  in  Spain,  and  in  the  heart 
of  Asia.* 

Such  was  the  captain  and  such  the  soldiers  who  were  now 
let  loose  on  the  people  of  Somersetshire.  From  Bridgewater 
Kirke  marched  to  Taunton.  He  was  accompanied  by  two 
carts  filled  with  wounded  rebels  whose  gashes  had  not  been 
dressed,  and  by  a  long  drove  of  prisoners  on  foot,  who  were 
chained  two  and  two.  Several  of  these  he  hanged  as  soon  as 
he  reached  Taunton,  without  the  form  of  a  trial.  They  were 
not  suffered  even  to  take  leave  of  their  nearest  relations.  The 
sign-post  of  the  White  Hart  Inn  served  for  a  gallows.  It  is 
said  that  the  work  of  death  went  on  in  sight  of  the  windows 
where  the  officers  of  the  Tangier  regiment  were  carousing, 
and  that  at  every  health  a  wretch  was  turned  off.  When  the 
legs  of  the  dying  men  quivered  in  the  last  agony,  the  colonel 
ordered  the  drums  to  strike  up.  He  would  give  the  rebels, 
he  said,  music  to  their  dancing.  The  tradition  runs  that  one 
of  the  captives  was  not  even  allowed  the  indulgence  of  a  speedy 
death.  Twice  he  was  suspended  from  the  sign-post,  and  twice 
cut  down.  Twice  he  was  asked  if  he  repented  of  his  treason  ; 
and  twice  lie  replied  that,  if  the  thing  were  to  do  again,  he 
would  do  it.  Then  he  was  tied  up  for  the  last  time.  So 
many  dead  bodies  were  quartered  that  the  executioner  stood 
ankle-deep  in  blood.  He  was  assisted  by  a  poor  man  whose 
loyalty  was  suspected,  and  who  was  compelled  to  ransom  his 
own  life  by  seething  the  remains  of  his  friends  in  pitch.  The 
peasant  who  had  consented  to  perform  this  hideous  office  af- 
terward returned  to  his  plough.  But  a  mark  like  that  of  Cain 
was  upon  him.  He  was  known  through  his  village  by  the  hor- 
rible name  of  Tom  Boilman.  The  rustics  long  continued  to  re- 
late that,  though  he  had,  by  his  sinful  and  shameful  deed,  saved 
himself  from  the  vengeance  of  the  Lambs,  he  had  not  escaped 
the  vengeance  of  a  higher  power.  In  a  great  storm  he  fled  for 
shelter  under  an  oak,  and  was  there  struck  dead  by  lightning.! 

*  Pepys's  Diary,  kept  at  Tangier ;  Historical  Records  of  the  Second  or  Queen's 
Royal  Regiment  of  Foot. 

f  Bloody  Assizes ;  Burnet,  i.,  647 ;  Luttrell's  Diary,  July  15, 1686 ;  Locke's  West- 
ern  Rebellion ;  Toulrain's  History  of  Taunton,  edited  by  Savage. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  577 

The  number  of  those  who  were  thus  butchered  cannot  now 
be  ascertained.  Nine  were  entered  in  the  parish  registers  of 
Taunton :  but  those  registers  contained  the  names  of  such 
only  as  had  Christian  burial.  Those  who  were  hanged  in 
chains,  and  those  whose  heads  and  limbs  were  sent  to  the 
neighboring  villages,  must  have  been  much  more  numerous. 
It  was  believed  in  London,  at  the  time,  that  Kirke  put  a  hun- 
dred captives  to  death  during  the  week  which  followed  the 
battle.* 

Cruelty,  however,  was  not  this  man's  only  passion.  lie 
loved  money ;  and  was  no  novice  in  the  arts  of  extortion. 
A  safe-conduct  might  be  bought  of  him  for  thirty  or  forty 
pounds ;  and  such  a  safe-conduct,  though  of  no  value  in  law, 
enabled  the  purchaser  to  pass  the  posts  of  the  Lambs  without 
molestation,  to  reach  a  seaport,  and  to  fly  to  a  foreign  country. 
The  ships  which  were  bound  for  New  England  were  crowded 
at  this  juncture  with  so  many  fugitives  from  Sedgemoor  that 
there  was  great  danger  lest  the  water  and  provisions  should 

failf 

Kirke  was  also,  in  his  own  coarse  and  ferocious  way,  a  man 
of  pleasure ;  and  nothing  is  more  probable  than  that  he  em- 
ployed his  power  for  the  purpose  of  gratifying  his  licentious 
appetites.  It  was  reported  that  he  conquered  the  virtue  of 
a  beautiful  woman  by  promising  to  spare  the  life  of  one  to 
whom  she  was  strongly  attached,  and  that,  after  she  had 
yielded,  he  showed  her,  suspended  on  the  gallows,  the  lifeless 
remains  of  him  for  whose  sake  she  had  sacrificed  her  honor. 
This  tale  an  impartial  judge  must  reject.  It  is  unsupported 
by  proof.  The  earliest  authority  for  it  is  a  poem  written  by 
Pomfret,  The  respectable  historians  of  that  age,  while  they 
speak  with  just  severity  of  the  crimes  of  Kirke,  either  omit 
all  mention  of  this  most  atrocious  crime,  or  mention  it  as  a 
thing  rumored  but  not  proved.  Those  who  tell  the  story  tell 
it  with  such  variations  as  deprive  it  of  all  title  to  credit. 
Some  lay  the  scene  at  Taunton,  some  at  Exeter.  Some  make 


*  Luttrell's  Diary,  July  15,  1685  ;  Toulmin's  Hist,  of  Taunton. 
f  Oldmixon,  705  ;  Life  and  Errors  of  John  Dunton,  Chap,  vil 

I.— 37 


578  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

the  heroine  of  the  tale  a  maiden,  some  a  married  woman. 
The  relation  for  whom  the  shameful  ransom  was  paid  is  de- 
scribed by  some  as  her  father,  by  some  as  her  brother,  and  by 
some  as  her  husband.  Lastly,  the  story  is  one  which,  long  be- 
fore Kirke  was  born,  had  been  told  of  many  other  oppressors, 
and  had  become  a  favorite  theme  of  novelists  and  dramatists. 
Two  politicians  of  the  fifteenth  century,  Rhynsault,  the  favor- 
ite of  Charles  the  Bold  of  Burgundy,  and  Oliver  le  Dain,  the 
favorite  of  Lewis  the  Eleventh  of  France,  had  been  accused 
of  the  same  crime.  Cintio  had  taken  it  for  the  subject  of  a 
romance.  Whetstone  had  made  out  of  Cintio's  narrative  the 
i  ade  play  of  Promos  and  Cassandra ;  and  Shakspeare  had  bor- 
rowed from  Whetstone  the  plot  of  the  noble  tragicomedy  of 
Measure  for  Measure.  As  Kirke  was  not  the  first,  so  he  was 
not  the  last,  to  whom  this  excess  of  wickedness  was  popularly 
imputed.  During  the  reaction  which  followed  the  Jacobin 
tyranny  in  France,  a  very  similar  charge  was  brought  against 
Joseph  Lebon,  one  of  the  most  odious  agents  of  the  Commit- 
tee of  Public  Safety,  and,  after  inquiry,  was  admitted  even  by 
his  prosecutors  to  be  unfounded.* 

The  government  was  dissatisfied  with  Kirke,  not  on  account 
of  the  barbarity  with  which  he  had  treated  his  needy  prison- 
ers, but  on  account  of  the  interested  lenity  which  he  had 
shown  to  rich  delinquents,  f  He  was  soon  recalled  from  the 
West.  A  less  irregular  and  more  cruel  massacre  was  about 
to  be  perpetrated.  The  vengeance  was  deferred  during  some 
weeks.  It  was  thought  desirable  that  the  Western  Circuit 

*  The  silence  of  Whig  writers  so  credulous  and  so  malevolent  as  Oldmixon 
and  the  compilers  of  the  Western  Martyrology  would  alone  seem  to  me  to  settle 
the  question.  It  also  deserves  to  be  remarked  that  the  story  of  Rhynsault  is  told 
by  Steele  in  the  Spectator,  No.  491.  Surely  it  is  hardly  possible  to  believe  that,  if 
a  crime  exactly  resembling  that  of  Rhynsault  had  been  committed  within  living 
memory  in  England  by  an  officer  of  James  the  Second,  Steele,  who  was  indiscreetly 
and  unseasonably  forward  to  display  his  Whiggism,  would  have  made  no  allusion 
to  that  fact.  For  the  case  of  Lebon,  see  the  Moniteur,  4  Messidor,  1'an  3. 

f  Sunderland  to  Kirke,  July  14  and  28,  1685.  "  His  Majesty,"  says  Sunderland, 
"  commands  me  to  signify  to  you  his  dislike  of  these  proceedings,  and  desires  you 
to  take  care  that  no  person  concerned  in  the  rebellion  be  at  large."  It  is  but  just 
to  add  that,  in  the  same  letter,  Kirke  is  blamed  for  allowing  his  soldiers  to  live  at 
free  quarter. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  579 

should  not  begin  till  the  other  circuits  had  terminated.  In 
the  mean  time  the  jails  of  Somersetshire  and  Dorsetshire  were 
filled  with  thousands  of  captives.  The  chief  friend  and  pro- 
tector of  these  unhappy  men  in  their  extremity  was  one  who 
abhorred  their  religious  and  political  opinions,  one  whose 
order  they  hated,  and  to  whom  they  had  done  unprovoked 
wrong,  Bishop  Ken.  That  good  prelate  used  all  his  influence 
to  soften  the  jailers,  and  retrenched  from  his  own  episcopal 
state  that  he  might  be  able  to  make  some  addition  to  the 
coarse  and  scanty  fare  of  those  who  had  defaced  his  beloved 
Cathedral.  His  conduct  on  this  occasion  was  of  a  piece  with 
his  whole  life.  His  intellect  was  indeed  darkened  by  many 
superstitions  and  prejudices :  but  his  moral  character,  when 
impartially  reviewed,  sustains  a  comparison  with  any  in  ec- 
clesiastical history,  and  seems  to  approach,  as  near  as  human 
infirmity  permits,  to  the  ideal  perfection  of  Christian  virtue.* 
His  labor  of  love  was  of  no  long  duration.  A  rapid  and 
effectual  jail-delivery  was  at  hand.  Early  in  September,  Jef- 
jeffreys  sets  f rejsj  accompanied  by  four  other  judges,  set  out  on 
western  cir-  tnat  circuit  of  which  the  memory  will  last  as  long 
as  our  race  and  language.  The  officers  who  com- 
manded the  troops  in  the  districts  through  which  his  course 
lay  had  orders  to  furnish  him  with  whatever  military  aid  he 
might  require.  His  ferocious  temper  needed  no  spur;  yet  a 
spur  was  applied.  The  health  and  spirits  of  the  Lord  Keeper 
had  given  way.  He  had  been  deeply  mortified  by  the  cold- 
ness of  the  King  and  by  the  insolence  of  the  Chief -justice, 
and  could  find  little  consolation  in  looking  back  on  a  life,  not 
indeed  blackened  by  any  atrocious  crime,  but  sullied  by  cow- 

*  I  should  be  very  glad  if  I  could  give  credit  to  the  popular  story  that  Ken,  im- 
mediately after  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor,  represented  to  the  chiefs  of  the  royal 
army  the  illegality  of  military  executions.  He  would,  I  doubt  not,  have  exerted 
all  his  influence  on  the  side  of  law  and  of  mercy,  if  he  had  been  present.  But 
there  is  no  trustworthy  evidence  that  he  was  then  in  the  West  at  all.  Indeed 
what  we  know  about  his  proceedings  at  this  time  amounts  very  nearly  to  proof 
of  an  alibi.  It  is  certain  from  the  Journals  of  the  House  of  Lords  that,  on  the 
Thursday  before  the  battle,  he  was  at  Westminster :  it  is  equally  certain  that,  on 
the  Monday  after  the  battle,  he  was  with  Monmouth  in  the  Tower ;  and,  in  that 
age,  a  journey  from  London  to  Bridgewater  and  back  again  was  no  light  thing. 


580  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

ardice,  selfishness,  and  servility.  So  deeply  was  the  unhappy 
man  humbled  that,  when  he  appeared  for  the  last  time  in 
Westminster  Hall,  he  took  with  him  a  nosegay  to  hide  his 
face,  because,  as  he  afterward  owned,  he  could  not  bear  the 
eyes  of  the  bar  and  of  the  audience.  The  prospect  of  his 
approaching  end  seems  to  have  inspired  him  with  unwonted 
courage.  He  determined  to  discharge  his  conscience,  request- 
ed an  audience  of  the  King,  spoke  earnestly  of  the  dangers  in- 
separable from  violent  and  arbitrary  counsels,  and  condemned 
the  lawless  cruelties  which  the  soldiers  had  committed  in 
Somersetshire.  He  soon  after  retired  from  London  to  die. 
He  breathed  his  last  a  few  days  after  the  Judges  set  out  for 
the  West.  It  was  immediately  notified  to  Jeffreys  that  he 
might  expect  the  Great  Seal  as  the  reward  of  faithful  and 
vigorous  service.* 

At  Winchester  the  Chief -justice  first  opened  his  commis- 
sion. Hampshire  had  not  been  the  theatre  of  war ;  but  many 
Trial  of  Alice  °^  *ne  vanquished  rebels  had,  like  their  leader,  fled 
thither.  Two  of  them,  John  Hickes,  a  Non- con- 
formist divine,  and  Richard  Nelthorpe,  a  lawyer  who  had  been 
outlawed  for  taking  part  in  the  Ilye-house  Plot,  had  sought 
refuge  at  the  house  of  Alice,  widow  of  John  Lisle.  John 
Lisle  had  sat  in  the  Long  Parliament  and  in  the  High  Court 
of  Justice,  had  been  a  Commissioner  of  the  Great  Seal  in  the 
days  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  had  been  created  a  Lord  by 
Cromwell.  The  titles  given  by  the  Protector  had  not  been 
recognized  by  any  government  which  had  ruled  England  since 
the  downfall  of  his  house ;  but  they  appear  to  have  been  often 
used  in  conversation  even  by  Royalists.  John  Lisle's  widow 
was,  therefore,  commonly  known  as  the  Lady  Alice.  She  was 
related  to  many  respectable,  and  to  some  noble,  families ;  and 
she  was  generally  esteemed  even  by  the  Tory  gentlemen  of 
her  county.  For  it  was  well  known  to  them  that  she  had 
deeply  regretted  some  violent  acts  in  which  her  husband  had 
borne  a  part,  that  she  had  shed  bitter  tears  for  Charles  the 


*  North's  Life  of  Guildford,  260,  263,  273 ;  Mackintosh's  View  of  the  Reign  of 
James  the  Second,  page  16,  note;  Letter  of  Jeffreys  to  Sunderland,  Sept.  5, 1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  581 

First,  and  that  she  had  protected  and  relieved  many  Cavaliers 
in  their  distress.  The  same  womanly  kindness,  which  had 
led  her  to  befriend  the  Royalists  in  their  time  of  trouble, 
would  not  suffer  her  to  refuse  a  meal  and  a  hiding-place  to 
the  wretched  men  who  now  entreated  her  to  protect  them. 
She  took  them  into  her  house,  set  meat  and  drink  before  them, 
and  showed  them  where  they  might  take  rest.  The  next 
morning  her  dwelling  was  surrounded  by  soldiers.  Strict 
search  was  made.  Hickes  was  found  concealed  in  the  malt- 
house,  and  Nelthorpe  in  the  chimney.  If  Lady  Alice  knew 
her  guests  to  have  been  concerned  in  the  insurrection,  she  was 
undoubtedly  guilty  of  what  in  strictness  was  a  capital  crime. 
For  the  law  of  principal  and  accessory,  as  respects  high  trea- 
son, then  was,  and  is  to  this  day,  in  a  state  disgraceful  to  Eng- 
lish jurisprudence.  In  cases  of  felony,  a  distinction,  founded 
on  justice  and  reason,  is  made  between  the  principal  and  the 
accessory  after  the  fact.  He  who  conceals  from  justice  one 
whom  he  knows  to  be  a  murderer  is  liable  to  punishment,  but 
not  to  the  punishment  of  murder.  He,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  shelters  one  whom  he  knows  to  be  a  traitor  is,  according 
to  all  our  jurists,  guilty  of  high  treason.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
point  out  the  absurdity  and  cruelty  of  a  law  which  includes 
under  the  same  definition,  and  visits  with  the  same  penalty, 
offences  lying  at  the  opposite  extremes  of  the  scale  of  guilt. 
The  feeling  which  makes  the  most  loyal  subject  shrink  from 
the  thought  of  giving  up  to  a  shameful  death  the  rebel  who, 
vanquished,  hunted  down,  and  in  mortal  agony,  begs  for  a 
morsel  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  water,  may  be  a  weakness ;  but 
it  is  surely  a  weakness  very  nearly  allied  to  virtue,  a  weakness 
which,  constituted  as  human  beings  are,  we  can  hardly  eradi- 
cate from  the  mind  without  eradicating  many  noble  and  be- 
nevolent sentiments.  A  wise  and  good  ruler  may  not  think 
it  right  to  sanction  this  weakness ;  but  he  will  generally  con- 
nive at  it.  or  punish  it  very  tenderly.  In  no  case  will  he 
treat  it  as  a  crime  of  the  blackest  dye.  Whether  Flora  Mac- 
donald  was  justified  in  concealing  the  attainted  heir  of  the 
Stuarts,  whether  a  brave  soldier  of  our  own  time  was  justified 
in  assisting  the  escape  of  Lavalette,  are  questions  on  which 


582  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

casuists  may  differ ;  but  to  class  such  actions  with  the  crimes 
of  Guy  Faux  and  Fieschi  is  an  outrage  to  humanity  and  com- 
mon-sense. Such,  however,  is  the  classification  of  our  law. 
It  is  evident  that  nothing  but  a  lenient  administration  could 
make  such  a  state  of  the  law  endurable.  And  it  is  just  to  say 
that,  during  many  generations,  no  English  government,  save 
one,  has  treated  with  rigor  persons  guilty  merely  of  harbor- 
ing defeated  and  flying  insurgents.  To  women  especially  has 
been  granted,  by  a  kind  of  tacit  prescription,  the  right  of  in- 
dulging, in  the  midst  of  havoc  and  vengeance,  that  compassion 
which  is  the  most  endearing  of  all  their  charms.  Since  the 
beginning  of  the  great  civil  war,  numerous  rebels,  some  of 
them  far  more  important  than  Hickes  or  Nelthorpe,  have  been 
protected  from  the  severity  of  victorious  governments  by  fe- 
male adroitness  and  generosity.  But  no  English  ruler  who 
has  been  thus  baffled,  the  savage  and  implacable  James  alone 
excepted,  has  had  the  barbarity  even  to  think  of  putting  a 
lady  to  a  cruel  and  shameful  death  for  so  venial  and  amiable 
a  transgression. 

Odious  as  the  law  was,  it  was  strained  for  the  purpose  of 
destroying  Alice  Lisle.  She  could  not,  according  to  the  doc- 
trine laid  down  by  the  highest  authority,  be  convicted  till 
after  the  conviction  of  the  rebels  whom  she  had  harbored.* 
She  was,  however,  set  to  the  bar  before  either  Hickes  or  Nel- 
thorpe  had  been  tried.  It  was  no  easy  matter  in  such  a  case 
to  obtain  a  verdict  for  the  crown.  The  witnesses  prevari- 
cated. The  jury,  consisting  of  the  principal  gentlemen  of 
Hampshire,  shrank  from  the  thought  of  sending  a  fellow- 
creature  to  the  stake  for  conduct  which  seemed  deserving 
rather  of  praise  than  of  blame.  Jeffreys  was  beside  himself 
with  fury.  This  was  the  first  case  of  treason  on  the  circuit ; 
and  there  seemed  to  be  a  strong  probability  that  his  prey 
would  escape  him.  He  stormed,  cursed,  and  swore  in  lan- 
guage which  no  well-bred  man  would  have  used  at  a  race  or 
a  cock-fight.  One  witness  named  Dunne,  partly  from  con- 
cern for  Lady  Alice,  and  partly  from  fright  at  the  threats  and 

*  See  the  preamble  of  the  act  of  Parliament  reversing  her  attainder. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  583 

maledictions  of  the  Chief-justice,  entirely  lost  his  head,  and  at 
last  stood  silent.  "  Oh  how  hard  the  truth  is,"  said  Jeffreys, 
"  to  come  out  of  a  lying  Presbyterian  knave."  The  witness, 
after  a  pause  of  some  minutes,  stammered  a  few  unmeaning 
words.  "  Was  there  ever,"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  with  an  oath, 
"  was  there  ever  such  a  villain  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ?  Dost 
thou  believe  that  there  is  a  God  ?  Dost  thou  believe  in  hell- 
tire  ?  Of  all  the  witnesses  that  I  ever  met  with  I  never  saw 
thy  fellow."  Still  the  poor  man,  scared  out  of  his  senses,  re- 
mained mute;  and  again  Jeffreys  burst  forth.  "I  hope, gen- 
tlemen of  the  jury,  that  you  take  notice  of  the  horrible  car- 
riage of  this  fellow.  How  can  one  help  abhorring  both  these 
men  and  their  religion  ?  A  Turk  is  a  saint  to  such  a  fellow 
as  this.  A  Pagan  would  be  ashamed  of  such  villany.  Oh 
blessed  Jesus!  What  a  generation  of  vipers  do  we  live 
among !"  "  I  cannot  tell  what  to  say,  my  Lord,"  faltered 
Dunne.  The  Judge  again  broke  forth  into  a  volley  of  oaths. 
"Was  there  ever,"  he  cried,  "such  an  impudent  rascal? 
Hold  the  candle  to  him  that  we  may  see  his  brazen  face. 
You,  gentlemen,  that  are  of  counsel  for  the  crown,  see  that 
an  information  for  perjury  be  preferred  against  this  fellow." 
After  the  witnesses  had  been  thus  handled,  the  Lady  Alice  was 
called  on  for  her  defence.  She  began  by  saying,  what  may 
possibly  have  been  true,  that,  though  she  knew  Hickes  to  be 
in  trouble  when  she  took  him  in,  she  did  not  know  or  suspect 
that  he  had  been  concerned  in  the  rebellion.  He  was  a  di- 
vine, a  man  of  peace.  It  had,  therefore,  never  occurred  to  her 
that  he  could  have  borne  arms  against  the  government;  and 
she  had  supposed  that  he  wished  to  conceal  himself  because 
warrants  were  out  against  him  for  field  -  preaching.  The 
Chief -justice  began  to  storm.  "  But  I  will  tell  you.  There 
is  not  one  of  those  lying,  snivelling,  canting  Presbyterians  but, 
one  way  or  another,  had  a  hand  in  the  rebellion.  Presbytery 
has  all  manner  of  villany  in  it.  Nothing  but  Presbytery 
could  have  made  Dunne  such  a  rogue.  Show  me  a  Presby- 
terian, and  I'll  show  thee  a  lying  knave."  He  summed  up  in 
the  same  style,  declaimed  during  an  hour  against  Whigs  and 
Dissenters,  and  reminded  the  jury  that  the  prisoner's  husband 


584  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

had  borne  a  part  in  the  Death  of  Charles  the  First,  a  fact 
which  had  not  been  proved  by  any  testimony,  and  which,  if  it 
had  been  proved,  would  have  been  utterly  irrelevant  to  the 
issue.  The  jury  retired,  and  remained  long  in  consultation. 
The  Judge  grew  impatient.  He  could  not  conceive,  he  said, 
how,  in  so  plain  a  case,  they  should  even  have  left  the  box. 
lie  sent  a  messenger  to  tell  them  that,  if  they  did  not  instant- 
ly return,  he  would  adjourn  the  court  and  lock  them  up  all 
night.  Thus  put  to  the  torture,  they  came,  but  came  to  say 
that  they  doubted  whether  the  charge  had  been  made  out. 
Jeffreys  expostulated  with  them  vehemently,  and,  after  an- 
other consultation,  they  gave  a  reluctant  verdict  of  Guilty. 

On  the  following  morning  sentence  was  pronounced.  Jef- 
freys gave  directions  that  Alice  Lisle  should  be  burned  alive 
that  very  afternoon.  This  excess  of  barbarity  moved  the  pity 
and  indignation  even  of  the  class  which  was  most  devoted  to 
the  crown.  The  clergy  of  Winchester  Cathedral  remonstrated 
with  the  Chief -justice,  who,  brutal  as  he  was,  was  not  mad 
enough  to  risk  a  quarrel  on  such  a  subject  with  a  body  so 
much  respected  by  the  Tory  party.  He  consented  to  put  off 
the  execution  five  days.  During  that  time  the  friends  of 
the  prisoner  besought  James  to  be  merciful.  Ladies  of  high 
rank  interceded  for  her.  Feversham,  whose  recent  victory 
had  increased  his  influence  at  court,  and  who,  it  is  said,  had 
been  bribed  to  take  the  compassionate  side,  spoke  in  her  fa- 
vor. Clarendon,  the  King's  brother-in-law,  pleaded  her  cause. 
But  all  was  vain.  The  utmost  that  could  be  obtained  was  that 
her  sentence  should  be  commuted  from  burning  to  beheading. 
She  was  put  to  death  on  a  scaffold  in  the  market-place  of  Win- 
chester, and  underwent  her  fate  with  serene  courage.* 

In  Hampshire  Alice  Lisle  was  the  only  victim :  but,  on  the 

day  following  her  execution,  Jeffreys  reached  Dorchester,  the 

The  Bloody      principal  town  of  the  county  in  which  Monmouth 

had  landed;  and  the  judicial  massacre  began.     The 

court  was  hung,  by  order  of  the  Chief -justice,  with  scarlet; 

*  Trial  of  Alice  Lisle  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials ;  Act  of  the  First  of  Wil- 
liam and  Mary  for  annulling  and  making  void  the  Attainder  of  Alice  Lisle,  widow ; 
Bui-net,  i.,  649 ;  Caveat  against  the  Whigs. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  585 

and  this  innovation  seemed  to  the  multitude  to  indicate  a 
bloody  purpose.  It  was  also  rumored  that,  when  the  cler- 
gyman who  preached  the  assize  sermon  enforced  the  duty  of 
mercy,  the  ferocious  mouth  of  the  Judge  was  distorted  by  an 
ominous  grin.  These  things  made  men  augur  ill  of  what  was 
to  follow.* 

More  than  three  hundred  prisoners  were  to  be  tried.  The 
work  seemed  heavy ;  but  Jeifreys  had  a  contrivance  for  mak- 
ing it  light.  He  let  it  be  understood  that  the  only  chance  of 
obtaining  pardon  or  respite  was  to  plead  guilty.  Twenty- 
nine  persons,  who  put  themselves  on  their  country  and  were 
convicted,  were  ordered  to  be  tied  up  without  delay.  The 
remaining  prisoners  pleaded  guilty  by  scores.  Two  hundred 
and  ninety-two  received  sentence  of  death.  The  whole  num- 
ber hanged  in  Dorsetshire  amounted  to  seventy-four. 

From  Dorchester  Jeifreys  proceeded  to  Exeter.  The  civil 
war  had  barely  grazed  the  frontier  of  Devonshire.  Here, 
therefore,  comparatively  few  persons  were  capitally  punished. 
Somersetshire,  the  chief  seat  of  the  rebellion,  had  been  reserved 
for  the  last  and  most  fearful  vengeance.  In  this  county  two 
hundred  and  thirty-three  prisoners  were  in  a  few  days  hanged, 
drawn,  and  quartered.  At  every  spot  where  two  roads  met, 
on  every  market-place,  on  the  green  of  every  large  village 
which  had  furnished  Momnouth  with  soldiers,  ironed  corpses 
clattering  in  the  wind,  or  heads  and  quarters  stuck  on  poles, 
poisoned  the  air,  and  made  the  traveller  sick  with  horror.  In 
many  parishes  the  peasantry  could  not  assemble  in  the  house 
of  God  without  seeing  the  ghastly  face  of  a  neighbor  grinning 
at  them  over  the  porch.  The  Chief-justice  was  all  himself. 
His  spirits  rose  higher  and  higher  as  the  work  went  on.  He 
laughed,  shouted,  joked,  and  swore  in  such  a  way  that  many 
thought  him  drunk  from  morning  to  night.  But  in  him  it 
was  not  easy  to  distinguish  the  madness  produced  by  evil  pas- 
sions from  the  madness  produced  by  brandy.  A  prisoner  af- 
firmed that  the  witnesses  who  appeared  against  him  were  not 
entitled  to  credit.  One  of  them,  he  said,  was  a  Papist,  and 

*  Bloodv  Assizes. 


586  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

another  a  prostitute.  "  Thou  impudent  rebel,"  exclaimed  the 
Judge,  "  to  reflect  on  the  King's  evidence !  I  see  thee,  villain, 
I  see  thee  already  with  the  halter  round  thy  neck."  Another 
produced  testimony  that  he  was  a  good  Protestant.  "  Protes- 
tant !"  said  Jeffreys ;  "  you  mean  Presbyterian.  I'll  hold  you 
a  wager  of  it.  I  can  smell  a  Presbyterian  forty  miles."  One 
wretched  man  moved  the  pity  even  of  bitter  Tories.  "  My 
Lord,"  they  said> "  this  poor  creature  is  on  the  parish."  "  Do 
not  trouble  yourselves,"  said  the  Judge,  "  I  will  ease  the  par- 
ish of  the  burden."  It  was  not  only  against  the  prisoners 
that  his  fury  broke  forth.  Gentlemen  and  noblemen  of  high 
consideration  and  stainless  loyalty,  who  ventured  to  bring  to 
his  notice  any  extenuating  circumstance,  were  almost  sure  to 
receive  what  he  called,  in  the.  coarse  dialect  which  he  had 
learned  in  the  pothouses  of  Whitechapel,  a  lick  with  the  rough 
side  of  his  tongue.  Lord  Stawell,  a  Tory  peer,  who  could  not 
conceal  his  horror  at  the  remorseless  manner  in  which  his 
poor  neighbors  were  butchered,  was  punished  by  having  a 
corpse  suspended  in  chains  at  his  park  gate.*  In  such  spec- 
tacles originated  many  tales  of  terror,  which  were  long  told 
over  the  cider  by  the  Christmas  fires  of  the  farmers  of  Som- 
ersetshire. Within  the  last  forty  years,  peasants,  in  some  dis- 
tricts, well  knew  the  accursed  spots,  and  passed  them  unwill- 
ingly after  sunset.f 

Jeffreys  boasted  that  he  had  hanged  more  traitors  than  all 
his  predecessors  together  since  the  Conquest.  It  is  certain 
that  the  number  of  persons  whom  he  put  to  death  in  one 
inonth,  and  in  one  shire,  very  much  exceeded  the  number  of 
all  the  political  offenders  who  have  been  put  to  death  in  our 
island  since  the  Revolution.  The  rebellions  of  1715  and  1745 
were  of  longer  duration,  of  wider  extent,  and  of  more  formi- 
dable aspect  than  that  which  was  put  down  at  Sedgemoor.  It 
has  not  been  generally  thought  that,  either  after  the  rebellion 
of  1715,  or  after  the  rebellion  of  1745,  the  House  of  Hanover 
erred  on  the  side  of  clemency.  Yet  all  the  executions  of  1715 


*  Locke's  Western  Rebellion. 

f  This  I  can  attest  from  my  own  childish  recollections. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  587 

and  1745  added  together  will  appear  to  have  been  few  indeed 
when  compared  with  those  which  disgraced  the  Bloody  As- 
sizes. The  number  of  the  rebels  whom  Jeffreys  hanged  on 
this  circuit  was  three  hundred  and  twenty.* 

Such  havoc  must  have  excited  disgust  even  if  the  sufferers 
had  been  generally  odious.  But  they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
men  of  blameless  life,  and  of  high  religious  profession.  They 
were  regarded  by  themselves,  and  by  a  large  proportion  of 
their  neighbors,  not  as  wrong-doers,  but  as  martyrs  who  sealed 
with  blood  the  truth  of  the  Protestant  religion.  Yery  few 
of  the  convicts  professed  any  repentance  for  what  they  had 
done.  Many,  animated  by  the  old  Puritan  spirit,  met  death, 
not  merely  with  fortitude,  but  with  exultation.  It  was  in 
vain  that  the  ministers  of  the  Established  Church  lectured 
them  on  the  guilt  of  rebellion  and  on  the  importance  of 
priestly  absolution.  The  claim  of  the  King  to  unbounded 
authority  in  things  temporal,  and  the  claim  of  the  clergy  to 
the  spiritual  power  of  binding  and  loosing,  moved  the  bitter 
scorn  of  the  intrepid  sectaries.  Some  of  them  composed 
hymns  in  the  dungeon,  and  chanted  them  on  the  fatal  sledge. 
Christ,  they  sang  while  they  were  undressing  for  the  butchery, 
would  soon  come  to  rescue  Zion  and  to  make  war  on  Babylon, 
would  set  up  his  standard,  would  blow  his  trumpet,  and  would 
requite  his  foes  tenfold  for  all  the  evil  which  had  been  in- 
flicted on  his  servants.  The  dying  words  of  these  men  were 
noted  down  :  their  farewell  letters  were  kept  as  treasures ; 
and  in  this  way,  with  the  help  of  some  invention  and  exag- 
geration, was  formed  a  copious  supplement  to  the  Marion 
martyrology.f 

A  few  cases  deserve  special  mention.  Abraham  Holmes, 
a  retired  .officer  of  the  parliamentary  army,  and  one  of  those 
zealots  who  would  own  no  king  but  King  Jesus,  had  been 

*  Lord  Lonsdale  says  seven  hundred;  Burnet  six  hundred.  I  have  followed 
the  list  which  the  Judges  sent  to  the  Treasury,  and  which  may  still  be  3een  there 
in  the  letter-book  of  1685.  See  the  Bloody  Assizes;  Locke's  Western  Rebellion; 
the  Panegyric  on  Lord  Jeffreys ;  Burnet,  i.,  648  ;  Eachard,  iii.,  775 ;  Oldmixon,  705. 

f  Some  of  the  prayers,  exhortations,  and  hymns  of  the  sufferers  will  be  found 
in  the  Bloody  Assizes. 


588  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

taken  at  Sedgemoor.  His  arm  had  been  frightfully  mangled 
Abraham  an(^  shattered  in  the  battle;  and,  as  no  surgeon  was 
at  hand,  the  stout  old  soldier  amputated  it  him- 
self. He  was  carried  up  to  London,  and  examined  by  the 
King  in  Council,  but  would  make  no  submission.  "  I  am  an 
aged  man,"  he  said ;  "  and  what  remains  10  me  of  life  is  not 
worth  a  falsehood  or  a  baseness.  I  have  always  been  a  repub- 
lican ;  and  I  am  so  still."  He  was  sent  back  to  the  West  and 
hanged.  The  people  remarked  with  awe  and  wonder  that  the 
beasts  which  were  to  drag  him  to  the  gallows  became  restive 
and  went  back.  Holmes  himself  doubted  not  that  the  Angel 
of  the  Lord,  as  in  the  old  time,  stood  in  the  way  sword  in 
hand,  invisible  to  human  eyes,  but  visible  to  the  inferior  ani- 
mals. "  Stop,  gentlemen,"  he  cried :  "  let  me  go  on  foot. 
There  is  more  in  this  than  you  think.  Remember  how  the 
ass  saw  him  whom  the  prophet  could  not  see."  He  walked 
manfully  to  the  gallows,  harangued  the  people  with  a  smile, 
prayed  fervently  that  God  would  hasten  the  downfall  of 
Antichrist  and  the  deliverance  of  England,  and  went  up  the 
ladder  with  an  apology  for  mounting  so  awkwardly.  "  You 
see,"  he  said, "  I  have  but  one  arm."* 

Not  less  courageously  died  Christopher  Battiscombe,  a 
young  Templar  of  good  family  and  fortune,  who,  at  Dorches- 
christopher  ter,  an  agreeable  provincial  town  proud  of  its  taste 
Battiscombe.  an(j  refinement,  was  regarded  by  all  as  the  model  of 
a  fine  gentleman.  Great  interest  was  made  to  save  him.  It 
was  believed  through  the  West  of  England  that  he  was  en- 
gaged to  a  young  lady  of  gentle  blood,  the  sister  of  the  Sheriff, 
that  she  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  Jeffreys  to  beg  for  mercy, 
and  that  Jeffreys  drove  her  from  him  with  a  jest  so  hideous  that 
to  repeat  it  would  be  an  offence  against  decency  and  humanity. 
Her  lover  suffered  at  Lyme  piously  and  courageously.f 

*  Bloody  Assizes ;  Locke's  Western  Rebellion;  Lord  Lonsdale's  Memoirs;  Ac- 
count of  the  Battle  of  Sedgemoor  in  the  Hardwicke  Papers.  The  story  in  the  Life 
of  James  the  Second,  ii.,  43,  is  not  taken  from  the  King's  manuscripts,  and  suffi- 
ciently refutes  itself. 

f  Bloody  Assizes ;  Locke's  Western  Rebellion ;  Humble  Petition  of  Widows  and 
fatherless  Children  in  the  West  of  England ;  Panegyric  on  Lord  Jeffreys. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  589 

A  still  deeper  interest  was  excited  by  the  fate  of  two  gal- 
lant brothers,  William  and  Benjamin  Hewling.     They  were 
young,  handsome, accomplished,  and  well  connected. 

The  Hewlmgs.    •'         .  °'  * 

iheir  maternal  grandfather  was  named  Kiffin.  He 
was  one  of  the  first  merchants  in  London,  and  was  generally 
considered  as  the  head  of  the  Baptists.  The  Chief-justice 
behaved  to  William  Hewling  on  the  trial  with  characteristic 
brutality.  "  You  have  a  grandfather,"  he  said, "  who  deserves 
to  be  hanged  as  richly  as  you."  The  poor  lad,  who  was  only 
nineteen,  suffered  death  with  so  much  meekness  and  fortitude, 
that  an  officer  of  the  army  who  attended  the  execution,  and 
who  had  made  himself  remarkable  by  rudeness  and  severity, 
was  strangely  melted,  and  said,  "  I  do  not  believe  that  my 
Lord  Chief-justice  himself  could  be  proof  against  this." 
Hopes  were  entertained  that  Benjamin  would  be  pardoned. 
One  victim  of  tender  years  was  surely  enough  for  one  house 
to  furnish.  Even  Jeffreys  was,  or  pretended  to  be,  inclined 
to  lenity.  The  truth  was  that  one  of  his  kinsmen,  from 
whom  he  had  large  expectations,  and  whom,  therefore,  he 
could  not  treat  as  he  generally  treated  intercessors,  pleaded 
strongly  for  the  afflicted  family.  Time  was  allowed  for  a 
reference  to  London.  The  sister  of  the  prisoner  went  to 
Whitehall  with  a  petition.  Many  courtiers  wished  her  suc- 
cess; and  Churchill,  among  whose  numerous  faults  cruelty 
had  no  place,  obtained  admittance  for  her.  "  I  wish  well  to 
your  suit  with  all  my  heart,"  he  said,  as  they  stood  together 
in  the  ante-chamber;  "but  do  not  flatter  yourself  with  hopes. 
This  marble" — and  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  chimney-piece 
— "is  not  harder  than  the  King."  The  prediction  proved 
true.  James  was  inexorable.  Benjamin  Hewling  died  with 
dauntless  courage,  amidst  lamentations  in  which  the  soldiers 
who  kept  guard  round  the  gallows  could  not  refrain  from 
joining.* 

*  As  to  the  Hewlings,  I  have  followed  Kiffin's  Memoirs,  and  Mr.  Hewling  Luson's 
narrative,  which  will  be  found  in  the  second  edition  of  the  Hughes  Correspondence, 
vol.  ii.,  Appendix.  The  accounts  in  Locke's  Western  Rebellion  and  in  the  Pane- 
gyric on  Jeffreys  arc  full  of  errors.  Great  part  of  the  account  in  the  Bloody  As- 
sizes was  written  by  Kiffin,  and  agrees  word  for  word  with  his  Memoirs. 


590  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

Yet  those  rebels  who  were  doomed  to  death  were  less  to  be 
pitied  than  some  of  the  survivors.  Several  prisoners  to  whom 
Jeffreys  was  unable  to  bring  home  the  charge  of  high  trea- 
son were  convicted  of  misdemeanors,  and  were  sentenced  to 
scourging  not  less  terrible  than  that  which  Gates  had  under- 
gone. A  woman  for  some  idle  words,  such  as  had  been  ut- 
tered by  half  the  women  in  the  districts  where  the  war  had 
raged,  was  condemned  to  be  whipped  through  all  the  market- 
towns  in  the  county  of  Dorset.  She  suffered  part  of  her  pun- 
ishment before  Jeffreys  returned  to  London ;  but  when  he 
was  no  longer  in  the  West,  the  jailers,  with  the  humane  con- 
nivance of  the  magistrates,  took  on  themselves  the  responsibil- 
ity of  sparing  her  any  further  torture.  A  still  more  frightful 
punishment  of  sentence  was  passed  on  a  lad  named  Tutchin,  who 
was  tried  for  seditions  words.  He  was,  as  usual, 
interrupted  in  his  defence  by  ribaldry  and  scurrility  from  the 
judgment-seat.  "  You  are  a  rebel ;  and  all  your  family  have 
been  rebels  since  Adam.  They  tell  me  that  you  are  a  poet. 
I'll  cap  verses  with  you."  The  sentence  was  that  the  boy 
should  be  imprisoned  seven  years,  and  should,  during  that 
period,  be  flogged  through  every  market-town  in  Dorsetshire 
every  year.  The  women  in  the  galleries  burst  into  tears. 
The  clerk  of  the  arraigns  stood  up  in  great  disorder.  "My 
Lord,"  said  he,  "  the  prisoner  is  very  young.  There  are  many 
market-towns  in  our  county.  The  sentence  amounts  to  whip- 
ping once  a  fortnight,  for  seven  years."  "  If  he  is  a  young 
man,"  said  Jeffreys,  "  he  is  an  old  rogue.  Ladies,  you  do  not 
know  the  villain  as  well  as  I  do.  Tho  punishment  is  not  half 
bad  enough  for  him.  All  the  interest  in  England  shall  not 
alter  it."  Tutchin  in  his  despair  petitioned,  and  probably 
with  sincerity,  that  he  might  be  hanged.  Fortunately  for  him, 
he  was,  just  at  this  conjuncture,  taken  ill  of  the  small-pox  and 
given  over.  As  it  seemed  highly  improbable  that  the  sen- 
tence would  ever  be  executed,  the  Chief-justice  consented  to 
remit  it,  in  return  for  a  bribe  which  reduced  the  prisoner  to 
poverty.  The  temper  of  Tutchin,  not  originally  very  mild, 
was  exasperated  to  madness  by  what  he  had  undergone.  He 
lived  to  be  known  as  one  of  the  most  acrimonious  and  per- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  591 

tinacious  enemies  of  the  House  of  Stuart  and  of  the  Tory 
party.* 

The  number  of  prisoners  whom  Jeffreys  transported  was 
eight  hundred  and  forty -one.  These  men,  more  wretched 
Rebels  trans-  than  their  associates  who  suffered  death,  were  dis- 
ported, tributed  into  gangs,  and  bestowed  on  persons  who 
enjoyed  favor  at  court.  The  conditions  of  the  gift  were  that 
the  convicts  should  be  carried  beyond  sea  as  slaves,  that  they 
should  not  be  emancipated  for  ten  years,  and  that  the  place 
of  their  banishment  should  be  some  West  Indian  island. 
This  last  article  was  studiously  framed  for  the  purpose  of 
aggravating  the  misery  of  the  exiles.  In  New  England  or 
New  Jersey  they  would  have  found  a  population  kindly  dis- 
posed to  them,  and  a  climate  not  unfavorable  to  their  health 
and  vigor.  It  was,  therefore,  determined  that  they  should  be 
sent  to  colonies  where  a  Puritan  could  hope  to  inspire  little 
sympathy,  and  where  a  laborer  born  in  the  temperate  zone 
could  hope  to  enjoy  little  health.  Such  was  the  state  of  the 
slave-market  that  these  bondmen,  long  as  was  the  passage,  and 
sickly  as  they  were  likely  to  prove,  were  still  very  valuable. 
It  was  estimated  by  Jeffreys  that,  on  an  average,  each  of 
them,  after  all  charges  were  paid,  would  be  worth  from  ten 
to  fifteen  pounds.  There  was,  therefore,  much  angry  compe- 
tition for  grants.  Some  Tories  in  the  West  conceived  that 
they  had,  by  their  exertions  and  sufferings  during  the  insur- 
rection, earned  a  right  to  share  in  the  profits  which  had  been 
eagerly  snatched  up  by  the  sycophants  of  Whitehall.  The 
courtiers,  however,  were  victorious.! 

The  misery  of  the  exiles  fully  equalled  that  of  the  negroes 
who  are  now  carried  from  Congo  to  Brazil.  It  appears  from 
the  best  information  which  is  at  present  accessible  that  more 
than  one  fifth  of  those  who  were  shipped  were  flung  to  the 
sharks  before  the  end  of  the  voyage.  The  human  cargoes 
were  stowed  close  in  the  holds  of  small  vessels.  So  little 
space  was  allowed  that  the  wretches,  many  of  whom  were  still 

*  See  Tutchin's  account  of  his  own  case  in  the  Bloody  Assizes, 
f  Sunderland  to  Jeffreys,  Sept.  14,  1685 ;  Jeffreys  to  the  King,  Sept.  19,  1685, 
in  the  State  Paper  Office. 


502  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

tormented  by  unliealed  wounds,  could  not  all  lie  down  at  once 
without  lying  on  one  another.  They  were  never  suffered  to 
go  on  deck.  The  hatchway  was  constantly  watched  by  sen- 
tinels armed  with  hangers  and  blunderbusses.  In  the  dun- 
geon below  all  was  darkness,  stench,  lamentation,  disease,  and 
death.  Of  ninety-nine  convicts  who  were  carried  out  in  one 
vessel,  twenty-two  died  before  they  reached  Jamaica,  although 
the  voyage  was  performed  with  unusual  speed.  The  surviv- 
ors, when  they  arrived  at  their  house  of  bondage,  were  mere 
skeletons.  During  some  weeks  coarse  biscuit  and  fetid  water 
had  been  doled  out  to  them  in  such  scanty  measure  that  any 
one  of  them  could  easily  have  consumed  the  ration  which  was 
assigned  to  five.  They  were,  therefore,  in  such  a  state  that 
the  merchant  to  whom  they  had  been  consigned  found  it 
expedient  to  fatten  them  before  selling  them.* 

Meanwhile,  the  property  both  of  the  rebels  who  had  suffer- 
ed death  and  of  those  more  unfortunate  men  who  were  with- 
confiscation  ering  under  the  tropical  sun,  was  fought  for  and 
and  extortion.  ^Qrn  'n  pjeces  \yj  a  crowd  of  greedy  inf  ormers.  By 
law  a  subject  attainted  of  treason  forfeits  all  his  substance ; 
and  this  law  was  enforced  after  the  Bloody  Assizes  with  a 
rigor  at  once  cruel  and  ludicrous.  The  broken-hearted  wid- 
ows and  destitute  orphans  of  the  laboring  men  whose  corpses 
hung  at  the  cross-roads  were  called  upon  by  the  agents  of  the 
Treasury  to  explain  what  had  become  of  a  basket,  of  a  goose, 
of  a  flitch  of  bacon,  of  a  keg  of  cider,  of  a  sack  of  beans,  of  a 
truss  of  hay.f  While  the  humbler  retainers  of  the  govern- 
ment were  pillaging  the  families  of  the  slaughtered  peasants, 
the  Chief -justice  was  fast  accumulating  a  fortune  out  of  the 
plunder  of  a  higher  class  of  Whigs.  He  traded  largely  in 
pardons.  His  most  lucrative  transaction  of  this  kind  was  with 


*  The  best  account  of  the  sufferings  of  those  rebels  who  were  sentenced  to 
transportation  is  to  be  found  in  a  very  curious  narrative  written  by  John  Goad, 
an  honest,  God-fearing  carpenter  who  joined  Monmouth,  was  badly  wounded  at 
Philip's  Norton,  was  tried  by  Jeffreys,  and  was  sent  to  Jamaica.  The  original 
manuscript  was  kindly  lent  to  me  by  Mr.  Phippard,  to  whom  it  belongs. 

f  In  the  Treasury  Records  of  the  autumn  of  1685  are  several  letters  directing 
search  to  be  made  for  trifles  of  this  sort. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  593 

a  gentleman  named  Edmund  Prideaux.  It  is  certain  that 
Prideaux  had  not  been  in  arms  against  the  government ;  and 
it  is  probable  that  his  only  crime  was  the  wealth  which  he 
had  inherited  from  his  father,  an  eminent  lawyer  who  had 
been  high  in  office  under  the  Protector.  No  exertions  were 
spared  to  make  out  a  case  for  the  crown.  Mercy  was  offered 
to  some  prisoners  on  condition  that  they  would  bear  evidence 
against  Prideaux.  The  unfortunate  man  lay  long  in  jail,  and 
at  length,  overcome  by  fear  of  the  gallows,  consented  to  pay 
fifteen  thousand  pounds  for  his  liberation.  This  great  sum 
was  received  by  Jeffreys.  He  bought  with  it  an  estate,  to 
which  the  people  gave"  the  name  of  Aceldama,  from  that  ac- 
cursed field  which  was  purchased  with  the  price  of  innocent 
blood.* 

He  was  ably  assisted  in  the  work  of  extortion  by  the  crew 
of  parasites  who  were  in  the  habit  of  drinking  and  laughing 
with  him.  The  office  of  these  men  was  to  drive  hard  bar- 
gains with  convicts  under  the  strong  terrors  of  death,  and  with 
parents  trembling  for  the  lives  of  children.  A  portion  of 
the  spoil  was  abandoned  by  Jeffreys  to  his  agents.  To  one 
of  his  boon-companions,  it  is  said,  he  tossed  a  pardon  for  a 
rich  traitor  across  the  table  during  a  revel.  It  was  not  safe 
to  have  recourse  to  any  intercession  except  that  of  his  creat- 
ures ;  for  he  guarded  his  profitable  monopoly  of  mercy  with 
jealous  care.  It  was  even  suspected  that  he  sent  some  persons 
to  the  gibbet  solely  because  they  had  applied  for  the  royal 
clemency  through  channels  independent  of  him.f 

Some  courtiers  nevertheless   contrived  to   obtain  a  small 

share  of  this  traffic.     The  ladies  of  the  Queen's  household 

distinguished  themselves  pre-eminently  by  rapacity 

napacityofthe  &  r          ,     ,         ,. J      J        r.  .   * 

Queen  and  of  and  hai'd-heartedness.  Part  of  the  disgrace  which 
they  incurred  falls  on  their  mistress:  for  it  was 
solely  on  account  of  the  relation  in  which  they  stood  to  her 
that  they  were  able  to  enrich  themselves  by  so  odious  a  trade ; 
and  there  can  be  no  question  that  she  might  with  a  word  or 

*  Commons'  Journals,  Oct.  9,  Nov.  10,  Dec.  26,  1690 ;  Oldmixon,  706 ;  Panegyric 
on  Jeffreys. 

f  Life  and  Death  of  Lord  Jeffreys  ;  Panegyric  on  Jeffreys  ;  Kiffin's  Memoirs. 

I.—3S 


594  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

a  look  have  restrained  them.  But  in  tru^i  she  encouraged 
them  by  her  evil  example,  if  not  by  her  express  approbation. 
She  seems  to  have  been  one  of  that  large  class  of  persons  who 
bear  adversity  better  than  prosperity.  While  her  husband 
was  a  subject  and  an  exile,  shut  out  from  public  employment, 
and  in  imminent  danger  of  being  deprived  of  his  birthright, 
the  suavity  and  humility  of  her  manners  conciliated  the  kind- 
ness even  of  those  who  most  abhorred  her  religion.  But  when 
her  good  fortune  came  her  good  nature  disappeared.  The 
meek  and  affable  Duchess  turned  out  an  ungracious  and 
haughty  Queen.*  The  misfortunes  which  she  subsequently 
endured  have  made  her  an  object  of 'some  interest,  but  that 
interest  would  be  not  a  little  heightened  if  it  could  be  shown 
that,  in  the  season  of  her  greatness,  she  saved,  or  even  tried  to 
save,  one  single  victim  from  the  most  frightful  proscription 
that  England  has  ever  seen.  Unhappily  the  only  request  that 
she  is  known  to  have  preferred  touching  the  rebels  \vas  that  a 
hundred  of  those  who  were  sentenced  to  transportation  might 
be  given  to  her.f  The  profit  which  she  cleared  on  the  cargo, 
after  making  large  allowance  for  those  who  died  of  hunger 
and  fever  during  the  passage,  cannot  be  estimated  at  less  than 
a  thousand  guineas.  We  cannot  wonder  that  her  attendants 
should  have  imitated  her  unprincely  greediness  and  her  un- 
womanly cruelty.  They  exacted  a  thousand  pounds  from 
Roger  Hoare,  a  merchant  of  Bridgewater,  who  had  contributed 
to  the  military  chest  of  the  rebel  army.  But  the  prey  on 
which  they  pounced  most  eagerly  was  one  which  it  might 
have  been  thought  that  even  the  most  ungentle  natures  would 
have  spared.  Already  some  of  the  girls  who  had  presented 
the  standard  to  Monmouth  at  Taunton  had  cruelly  expiated 
their  offence.  One  of  them  had  been  thrown  into  a  prison 
where  an  infectious  malady  was  raging.  She  had  sickened 
and  died  there.  Another  had  presented  herself  at  the  bar 

*  Burnet,  i.,  368;  Evelyn's  Diary,  Feb.  4, 168|,  July  13, 1686.     In  one  of  the 
satires  of  that  time  are  these  lines : 

"When  Duchess,  she  was  gentle,  mild,  and  civil ; 
When  Queen,  she  proved  a  raging  furious  devil." 

f  Sunderland  to  Jeffreys,  Sept.  14,  1685. 


1685.  JAMES  THE   SECOND.  595 

before  Jeffreys  to  beg  for  mercy.  "  Take  her,  jailer,"  vocif- 
erated,the  Judge,  with  one  of  those  frowns  which  had  often 
struck  terror  into  stouter  hearts  than  hers.  She  burst  into 
tears,  drew  her  hood  over  her  face,  followed  the  jailer  out  of 
court,  fell  ill  of  fright,  and  in  a  few  hours  was  a  corpse. 
Most  of  the  young  ladies,  however,  who  had  walked  in  the 
procession  were  still  alive.  Some  of  them  were  under  ten 
years  of  age.  All  had  acted  under  the  orders  of  their  school- 
mistress, without  knowing  that  they  were  committing  a  crime. 
The  Queen's  maids  of  honor  asked  the  royal  permission  to 
wring  money  out  of  the  parents  of  the  poor  children ;  and 
the  permission  was  granted.  An  order  was  sent  down  to 
Taunton  that  all  these  little  girls  should  be  seized  and  impris- 
oned. Sir  Francis  Warre  of  Hestercombe,  the  Tory  member 
for  Bridgewater,  was  requested  to  undertake  the  office  of  ex- 
acting the  ransom.  He  was  charged  to  declare  in  strong  lan- 
guage that  the  maids  of  honor  would  not  endure  delay,  that 
they  were  determined  to  prosecute  to  outlawry,  unless  a  rea- 
sonable sum  were  forthcoming,  and  that  by  a  reasonable  sum 
was  meant  seven  thousand  pounds.  Warre  excused  himself 
from  taking  any  part  in  a  transaction  so  scandalous.  The 
maids  of  honor  then  requested  William  Penn  to  act  for  them ; 
and  Penn  accepted  the  commission.  Yet  it  should  seem  that 
a  little  of  the  pertinacious  scrupulosity  which  he  had  often 
shown  about  taking  off  his  hat  would  not  have  been  altogether 
out  of  place  on  this  occasion.  He  probably  silenced  the  re- 
monstrances of  his  conscience  by  repeating  to  himself  that 
none  of  the  money  which  he  extorted  would  go  into  his  own 
pocket ;  that  if  he  refused  to  be  the  agent  of  the  ladies  they 
would  find  agents  less  humane ;  that  by  complying  he  should 
increase  his  influence  at  the  court,  and  that  his  influence  at 
the  court  had  already  enabled  him,  and  might  still  enable  him, 
to  render  great  services  to  his  oppressed  brethren.  The  maids 
of  honor  were  at  last  forced  to  content  themselves  with  less 
than  a  third  part  of  what  they  had  demanded.* 

*  Locke's  Western  Rebellion ;  Toulmin's  History  of  Taunton,  edited  by  Savage ; 
Letter  of  the  Duke  of  Somerset  to  Sir  F.  Warre ;  Letter  of  Sunderland  to  Penn, 
Feb.  13, 168f,  from  the  State  Paper  Office,  in  the  Mackintosh  Collection  (1848). 


596  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

No  English  sovereign  has  ever  given  stronger  proofs  of  a 
cruel  nature  than  James  the  Second.     Yet  his  cruelty 


The  letter  of  Sunderland  is  as  follows  : 

"  Whitehall,  Feb.  13,  1685-6. 

"  MR.  PEKNE,  —  Her  Majesty's  Maids  of  Honour  having  acquainted  me  that  they 
designe  to  employ  you  and  Mr.  Walden  in  making  a  composition  with  the  Rela- 
tions of  the  Maids  of  Taunton  for  the  high  Misdemeanour  they  have  been  guilty 
of,  I  do  at  their  request  hereby  let  you  know  that  His  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to 
give  their  Fines  to  the  said  Maids  of  Honour,  and  therefore  recommend  it  to  Mr. 
Walden  and  you  to  make  the  most  advantageous  composition  you  can  hi  their 
behalfe.  I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  SCXDERLAXD." 

That  the  person  to  whom  this  letter  was  addressed  was  William  Penn  the  Quaker 
was  not  doubted  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  who  first  brought  it  to  light,  or,  as  far 
as  I  am  aware,  by  any  other  person,  till  after  the  publication  of  the  first  part  of 
this  History.  It  has  since  been  confidently  asserted  that  the  letter  was  addressed 
to  a  certain  George  Penne,  who  appears  from  an  old  account-book  lately  dis- 
covered to  have  been  concerned  in  a  negotiation  for  the  ransom  of  one  of  Mon- 
mouth's  followers,  named  Azariah  Pinney. 

If  I  thought  that  I  had  committed  an  error,  I  should,  I  hope,  have  the  honesty 
to  acknowledge  it.  But,  after  full  consideration,  I  am  satisfied  that  Sunderland's 
letter  was  addressed  to  William  Penn. 

Much  has  been  said  about  the  way  in  which  the  name  is  spelled.  The  Quaker, 
we  are  told,  was  not  Mr.  Penne,  but  Mr.  Penn.  I  feel  assured  that  no  person  con- 
versant with  the  books  and  manuscripts  of  the  seventeenth  century  will  attnch 
any  importance  to  this  argument.  It  is  notorious  that  a  proper  name  was  then 
thought  to  be  well  spelled  if  the  sound  were  preserved.  To  go  no  further  than 
the  persons  who,  in  Penn's  time,  held  the  Great  Seal,  one  of  them  is  sometimes 
Hyde  and  sometimes  Hide  :  another  is  Jefferies,  Jeffries,  Jeffcreys,  and  Jeffreys  : 
a  third  is  Somers,  Sommers,  and  Summers  :  a  fourth  is  Wright  and  Wrighte  ;  and 
a  fifth  is  Cowper  and  Cooper.  The  Quaker's  name  was  spelled  in  three  ways. 
He,  and  his  father  the  admiral  before  him,  invariably,  as  far  as  I  have  observed, 
spelled  it  Penn  :  but  most  people  spelled  it  Pen  ;  and  there  were  some  who  ad- 
hered to  the  ancient  form,  Penne.  For  example,  William  the  father  is  Penne  in  a 
letter  from  Disbrowe  to  Thurloe,  dated  on  the  7th  of  December,  1654  ;  and  William 
the  son  is  Penne  in  a  news-letter  of  the  22d  of  September,  1688,  printed  in  the 
Ellis  Correspondence.  In  Richard  Ward's  Life  and  Letters  of  Henry  More,  printed 
in  1710,  the  name  of  the  Quaker  will  be  found  spelled  in  all  the  three  ways,  Penn 
in  the  Index,  Pen  in  page  197,  and  Penne  in  page  311.  The  name  is  Penne  in  the 
commission  which  the  admiral  carried  out  with  him  on  his  expedition  to  the  West 
Indies.  Burchett,  who  became  Secretary  to  the  Admiralty  soon  after  the  Revo- 
lution, and  remained  in  office  long  after  the  accession  of  the  House  of  Hanover, 
always,  in  his  Naval  History,  wrote  the  name  Penne.  Surely  it  cannot  be  thought 
strange  that  an  old-fashioned  spelling,  in  which  the  Secretary  of  the  Admiralty 
persisted  so  late  as  1720,  should  have  been  used  at  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of 
State  in  1686.  I  am  quite  confident  that,  if  the  letter  which  we  are  considering 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  597 

not  more  odious  than  his  mercy.  Or  perhaps  it  may  be  more 
correct  to  say  that  his  mercy  and  his  cruelty  were  such  that 

had  been  of  a  different  kind,  if  Mr.  Pennc  had  been  informed  that,  in  consequence 
of  his  earnest  intercession,  the  King  had  been  graciously  pleased  to  grant  a  free 
pardon  to  the  Taunton  girls,  and  if  I  had  attempted  to  deprive  the  Quaker  of  the 
credit  of  that  intercession  on  the  ground  that  his  name  was  not  Penne,  the  very 
persons  who  now  complain  so  bitterly  that  I  am  unjust  to  his  memory  would  have 
complained  quite  as  bitterly,  and,  I  must  say,  with  much  more  reason. 

I  think  myself,  therefore,  perfectly  justified  in  considering  the  names,  Penn  and 
Penne,  as  the  same.  To  which,  then,  of  the  two  persons  who  bore  that  name, 
George  or  William,  is  it  probable  that  the  letter  of  the  Secretary  of  State  was 
addressed  ? 

George  was  evidently  an  adventurer  of  a  very  low  class.  All  that  we  learn 
about  him  from  the  papers  of  the  Pinney  family  is  that  he  was  employed  in  the 
purchase  of  a  pardon  for  the  younger  son  of  a  dissenting  minister.  The  whole 
sum  which  appears  to  have  passed  through  George's  hands  on  this  occasion  was 
sixty-five  pounds.  His  commission  on  the  transaction  must  therefore  have  been 
small.  The  only  other  information  which  we  have  about  him  is  that  he,  some 
time  later,  applied  to  the  government  for  a  favor  which  was  very  far  from  being 
an  honor.  In  England  the  Groom  Porter  of  the  Palace  had  a  jurisdiction  over 
games  of  chance,  and  made  some  very  dirty  gain  by  issuing  lottery  tickets  and 
licensing  hazard  tables.  George  appears  to  have  petitioned  for  a  similar  privilege 
in  the  American  colonies. 

William  Penn  was,  during  the  reign  of  James  the  Second,  the  most  active  and 
powerful  solicitor  about  the  Court.  I  will  quote  the  words  of  his  admirer  Croese. 
"  Quum  autem  Pennus  tanta  gratia  plurimum  apud  regem  valeret,  et  per  id  per- 
plures  sibi  amicos  acquireret,  ilium  omnes,  etiam  qui  modo  aliqua  notitia  erant 
conjunct!,  quoties  aliquid  a  rege  postulandum  agendumve  apud  regem  esset,  adire, 
ambire,  orare,  ut  eos  apud  regem  adjuvaret."  He  was  overwhelmed  by  business 
of  this  kind,  "  obrutus  negotiationibus  curationibusque."  His  house  and  the  ap- 
proaches to  it  were  every  day  blocked  up  by  crowds  of  persons  who  came  to  re- 
quest his  good  offices;  "domus  ac  vestibula  quotidie  referta  clientium  et  suppli- 
cantium."  From  the  Fountainhall  papers  it  appears  that  his  influence  was  felt 
even  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland.  We  learn  from  himself  that,  at  this  time,  he 
was  always  toiling  for  others,  that  he  was  a  daily  suitor  at  Whitehall,  and  that,  if 
he  had  chosen  to  sell  his  influence,  he  could,  in  little  more  than  three  years,  have 
put  twenty  thousand  pounds  into  his  pocket,  and  obtained  a  hundred  thousand 
more  for  the  improvement  of  the  colony  of  which  he  was  proprietor. 

Such  was  the  position  of  these  two  men.  Which  of  them,  then,  was  the  more 
likely  to  be  employed  in  the  matter  to  which  Sunderland's  letter  related  ?  Was  it 
George  or  William,  an  agent  of  the  lowest  or  of  the  highest  class  ?  The  persons 
interested  were  ladies  of  rank  and  fashion,  resident  at  the  palace,  where  George 
would  hardly  have  been  admitted  into  an  outer  room,  but  where  William  was  every 
day  in  the  presence-chamber  and  was  frequently  called  into  the  closet.  The  great- 
est nobles  in  the  kingdom  were  zealous  and  active  in  the  cause  of  their  fair  friends, 
nobles  with  whom  William  lived  in  habits  of  familiar  intercourse,  but  who  would 


598  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

each  reflects  infamy  on  the  other.  Our  horror  at  the  fate 
of  the  simple  clowns,  the  young  lads,  the  delicate  women, 

hardly  have  thought  George  fit  company  for  their  grooms.  The  sum  in  question 
was  seven  thousand  pounds,  a  sum  not  large  when  compared  with  the  masses  of 
wealth  with  which  William  had  constantly  to  deal,  but  more  than  a  hundred  times 
as  large  as  the  only  ransom  which  is  known  to  have  passed  through  the  hands  of 
George.  These  considerations  would  suffice  to  raise  a  strong  presumption  that 
Sunderland's  letter  was  addressed  to  William,  and  not  to  George :  but  there  is  a 
still  stronger  argument  behind. 

It  is  most  important  to  observe  that  the  person  to  whom  this  letter  was  ad- 
dressed was  not  the  first  person  whom  the  Maids  of  Honor  had  requested  to  act 
for  them.  They  applied  to  him,  because  another  person,  to  whom  they  had  pre- 
viously applied,  had,  after  some  correspondence,  declined  the  office.  From  their 
first  application  we  learn  with  certainty  what  sort  of  person  they  wished  to  em- 
ploy. If  their  first  application  had  been  made  to  some  obscure  pettifogger  or 
needy  gambler,  we  should  be  warranted  in  believing  that  the  Penne  to  whom  their 
second  application  was  made  was  George.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  their  first  appli- 
cation was  made  to  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  consideration,  we  can  hardly  be 
wrong  in  saying  that  the  Penne  to  whom  their  second  application  was  made  must 
have  been  William.  To  whom,  then,  was  their  first  application  made?  It  was  to 
Sir  Francis  Warre  of  Hestercombe,  a  baronet  and  a  Member  of  Parliament.  The 
letters  are  still  extant  in  which  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  the  proud  duke,  not  a  man 
very  likely  to  have  corresponded  with  George  Penne,  pressed  Sir  Francis  to  under- 
take the  commission.  The  latest  of  those  letters  is  dated  about  three  weeks  before 
Sunderland's  letter  to  Mr.  Penne.  Somerset  tells  Sir  Francis  that  the  town  clerk 
of  Bridgewater,  whose  name,  I  may  remark  in  passing,  is  spelled  sometimes  Bird 
and  sometimes  Birde,  had  offered  his  services,  but  that  those  services  had  been 
declined.  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  the  Maids  of  Honor  were  desirous  to  have  an 
agent  of  high  station  and  character.  And  they  were  right.  For  the  sum  which 
they  demanded  was  so  large  that  no  ordinary  jobber  could  safely  be  intrusted  with 
the  care  of  their  interests. 

As  Sir  Francis  Warre  excused  himself  from  undertaking  the  negotiation,  it  be- 
came necessary  for  the  Maids  of  Honor  and  their  advisers  to  choose  somebody  who 
might  supply  his  place ;  and  they  chose  Penne.  Which  of  the  two  Pennes,  then, 
must  have  been  their  choice,  George,  a  petty  broker  to  whom  a  percentage  on  six- 
ty-five pounds  was  an  object,  and  whose  highest  ambition  was  to  derive  an  infa- 
mous livelihood  from  cards  and  dice,  or  William,  not  inferior  in  social  position  to 
any  commoner  in  the  kingdom  ?  Is  it  possible  to  believe  that  the  ladies  who,  in 
January,  employed  the  Duke  of  Somerset  to  procure  for  them  an  agent  in  the  first 
rank  of  the  English  gentry,  and  who  did  not  think  an  attorney,  though  occupying 
a  respectable  post  in  a  respectable  corporation,  good  enough  for  their  purpose, 
would,  in  February,  have  resolved  to  trust  everything  to  a  fellow  who  was  as  much 
below  Bird  as  Bird  was  below  Warre  ? 

But,  it  is  said,  Sunderland's  letter  is  dry  and  distant ;  and  he  never  would  have 
written  in  such  a  style  to  William  Penn,  with  whom  he  was  on  friendly  terms.  Can 
it  be  necessary  for  me  to  reply  that  the  official  communications  which  a  Minister  of 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  599 

to  whom  he  was  inexorably  severe,  is  increased  when  we 
find  to  whom  and  for  what  considerations  he  granted  his 
pardon. 

The  rule  by  which  a  prince  ought,  after  a  rebellion,  to  be 
guided  in  selecting  rebels  for  punishment  is  perfectly  obvi- 
ous. The  ringleaders,  the  men  of  rank,  fortune,  and  education, 
whose  power  and  whose  artifices  have  led  the  multitude  into 
error,  are  the  proper  objects  of  severity.  The  deluded  pop- 
ulace, when  once  the  slaughter  on  the  field  of  battle  is  over, 
can  scarcely  be  treated  too  leniently.  This  rule,  so  evidently 
agreeable  to  justice  and  humanity,  was  not  only  not  observed  : 
it  was  inverted.  While  those  who  ought  to  have  been  spared 
were  slaughtered  by  hundreds,  the  few  who  might  with  pro- 
priety have  been  left  to  the  utmost  rigor  of  the  law  were 

State  makes  to  his  dearest  friends  and  nearest  relations  are  as  cold  and  formal  as 
those  which  he  makes  to  strangers  ?  Will  it  be  contended  that  the  General  Wel- 
lesley,  to  whom  the  Marquis  Wellesley,  when  Governor  of  India,  addressed  so  many 
letters  beginning  with  "  Sir,"  and  ending  with  "  I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  obe- 
dient servant,"  cannot  possibly  have  been  his  lordship's  brother  Arthur  ? 

But,  it  is  said,  Oldmixon  tells  a  different  story.  According  to  him,  a  Popish 
lawyer,  named  Brent,  and  a  subordinate  jobber,  named  Crane,  were  the  agents  in 
the  matter  of  the  Taunton  girls.  Now  it  is  notorious  that  of  all  our  historians 
Oldmixon  is  the  least  trust  worth}".  His  most  positive  assertion  would  be  of  no 
value  when  opposed  to  such  evidence  as  is  furnished  by  Sunderland's  letter.  But 
Oldmixon  asserts  nothing  positively.  Not  only  does  he  not  assert  positively  that 
Brent  and  Crane  acted  for  the  Maids  of  Honor ;  but  he  does  not  even  assert  pos- 
itively that  the  Maids  of  Honor  were  at  all  concerned.  He  goes  no  further  than 
"  It  was  said,"  and  "  It  was  reported."  It  is  plain,  therefore,  that  he  was  very  im- 
perfectly informed.  I  do  not  think  it  impossible,  however,  that  there  may  have 
been  some  foundation  for  the  rumor  which  he  mentions.  We  have  seen  that  one 
busy  lawyer,  named  Bird,  volunteered  to  look  after  the  interest  of  the  Maids  of 
Honor,  and  that  they  were  forced  to  tell  him  that  they  did  not  want  his  services. 
Other  persons,  and  among  them  the  two  whom  Oldmixon  names,  may  have  tried 
to  thrust  themselves  into  so  lucrative  a  job,  and  may,  by  pretending  to  interest  at 
Court,  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  little  money  from  terrified  families.  But 
nothing  can  be  more  clear  than  that  the  authorized  agent  of  the  Maids  of  Honor 
was  the  Mr.  Penne  to  whom  the  Secretary  of  State  wrote ;  and  I  firmly  believe 
that  Mr.  Penne  to  have  been  William  the  Quaker. 

If  it  be  said  that  it  is  incredible  that  so  good  a  man  would  have  been  concerned 
in  so  bad  an  affair,  I  can  only  answer  that  this  affair  was  very  far  indeed  from 
being  the  worst  in  which  he  was  concerned. 

For  these  reasons  I  leave  the  text,  and  shall  leave  it,  exactly  as  it  originally 
stood  (1857). 


600  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

spared.  This  eccentric  clemency  has  perplexed  some  writers, 
and  has  drawn  forth  ludicrous  eulogies  from  others.  It  was 
neither  at  all  mysterious  nor  at  all  praiseworthy.  It  may 
be  distinctly  traced  in  every  case  either  to  a  sordid  or  to  a 
malignant  motive,  either  to  thirst  for  money  or  to  thirst  for 
blood. 

In  the  case  of  Grey  there  was  no  mitigating  circumstance. 

His  parts  and  knowledge,  the  rank  which  he  had  inherited 

in  the  state,  and  the  high  command  which  he  had 

Grey. 

borne  in  the  rebel  army,  would  have  pointed  him 
out  to  a  just  government  as  a  much  fitter  object  of  punish- 
ment than  Alice  Lisle,  than  William  Hewling,  than  any  of 
the  hundreds  of  ignorant  peasants  whose  skulls  and  quarters 
were  exposed  in  Somersetshire.  But  Grey's  estate  was  large, 
and  was  strictly  entailed.  He  had  only  a  life-interest  in  his 
property ;  and  he  could  forfeit  no  more  interest  than  he  had. 
If  he  died,  his  lands  at  once  devolved  on  the  next  heir.  If 
he  were  pardoned,  he  would  be  able  to  pay  a  large  ransom. 
He  was  therefore  suffered  to  redeem  himself  by  giving  a  bond 
for  forty  thousand  pounds  to  the  Lord  Treasurer,  and  smaller 
sums  to  other  courtiers.* 

Sir  John  Cochrane  had  held  among  the  Scotch  rebels  the 
same  rank  which  had  been  held  by  Grey  in  the  West  of  Eng- 
land.    That   Cochrane   should  be   forgiven   by   a 

CoclirfinG 

prince  vindictive  beyond  all  example,  seemed  in- 
credible. But  Cochrane  was  the  younger  son  of  a  rich  fam- 
ily ;  it  was  therefore  only  by  sparing  him  that  money  could 
be  made  out  of  him.  His  father,  Lord  Dundonald,  offered 
a  bribe  of  five  thousand  pounds  to  the  priests  of  the  royal 
household ;  and  a  pardon  was  granted.f 

Samuel  Storey,  a  noted  sower  of  sedition,  who  had  been 

Commissary  to  the  rebel  army,  and  who  had  inflamed  the 

ignorant  populace  of  Somersetshire  by  vehement 

harangues  in  which  James  had  been  described  as 

an  incendiary  and  a  poisoner,  was  admitted  to  mercy.     For 


*  Burnct,  i.,  C16,  and  Speaker  Onslow's  note;  Clarendon  to  Rochester,  May  8, 
1686.  f  Burnet,  i.,  634. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  601 

Storey  was  able  to  give  important  assistance  to  Jeffreys  in 
wringing  fifteen  thousand  pounds  out  of  Prideaux.* 

None  of  the  traitors  had  less  right  to  expect  favor  than 

Wade,  Goodenough,  and  Ferguson.     These  three  chiefs  of  the 

rebellion  had  fled  together  from  the  field  of  Sedge- 

Wade,  Good- 
enough,  and      moor,  and  had  reached  the  coast  in  safety.     But 

Ferguson.  . 

they  had  found  a  frigate  cruising  near  the  spot 
where  they  had  hoped  to  embark.  They  had  then  separated. 
Wade  and  Goodenough  were  soon  discovered  and  brought  up 
to  London.  Deeply  as  they  had  been  implicated  in  the  Rye- 
house  Plot,  conspicuous  as  they  had  been  among  the  chiefs 
of  the  Western  insurrection,  they  were  suffered  to  live,  be- 
cause they  had  it  in  their  power  to  give  information  which 
enabled  the  King  to  slaughter  and  plunder  some  persons 
whom  he  hated,  but  to  whom  he  had  never  yet  been  able  to 
bring  home  any  crime.f 

How  Ferguson  escaped  was,  and  still  is,  a  mystery.  Of 
all  the  enemies  of  the  government  he  was,  without  doubt, 
the  most  deeply  criminal.  He  was  the  original  author  of 
the  plot  for  assassinating  the  royal  brothers.  He  had  writ- 
ten that  Declaration  which,  for  insolence,  malignity,  and  men- 
dacity, stands  unrivalled  even  among  the  libels  of  those 
stormy  times.  He  had  instigated  Monmouth  first  to  invade 
the  kingdom,  and  then  to  usurp  the  crown.  It  was  reasona- 
ble to  expect  that  a  strict  search  would  be  made  for  the  arch- 
traitor,  as  he  was  often  called ;  and  such  a  search  a  man  of  so 
singular  an  aspect  and  dialect  could  scarcely  have  eluded.  It 
was  confidently  reported  in  the  coffee-houses  of  London  that 
Ferguson  was  taken ;  and  this  report  found  credit  with  men 
who  had  excellent  opportunities  of  knowing  the  truth.  The 
next  thing  that  was  heard  of  him  was  that  he  was  safe  on  the 
Continent.  It  was  strongly  suspected  that  he  had  been  in 
constant  communication  with  the  government  against  which 
he  was  constantly  plotting,  that  he  had,  while  urging  his  as- 
sociates to  every  excess  of  rashness,  sent  to  Whitehall  just  so 

*  Calamy's  Memoirs;  Commons'  Journals,  December  26,1690;  Sunderland  to 
Jeffreys,  September  14,  1685  ;  Privy  Council  Book,  February  26,  168f. 

f  Lansdowne  MS.,  1152 ;  Harl.  MS.,  6845  ;  London  Gazette,  July  20, 1685. 


602  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cii.V. 

much  information  about  their  proceedings  as  might  suffice  to 
save  his  own  neck,  and  that  therefore  orders  had  been  given 
to  let  him  escape.* 

And  now  Jeffreys  had  done  his  work,  and  returned  to  claim 
his  reward.  lie  arrived  at  Windsor  from  the  West,  leaving 

*  O 

carnage,  mourning,  and  terror  behind  him.  The  hatred  with 
which  he  was  regarded  by  the  people  of  Somersetshire  has 
no  parallel  in  our  history.  It  was  not  to  be  quenched  by 
time  or  by  political  changes,  was  long  transmitted  from  gen- 
eration to  generation,  and  raged  fiercely  against  his  innocent 
progeny.  When  he  had  been  many  years  dead,  when  his 
name  and  title  were  extinct,  his  granddaughter,  the  Countess 
of  Pomfret,  travelling  along  the  western  road,  was  insulted  by 
the  populace,  and  found  that  she  could  not  safely  venture  her- 
self among  the  descendants  of  those  who  had  witnessed  the 
Bloody  Assizes.f 

But  at  the  court  Jeffreys  was  cordially  welcomed.  He  was 
a  judge  after  his  master's  own  heart.  James  had  watched  the 
circuit  with  interest  and  delight.  In  his  drawing-room  and 
at  his  table  he  had  frequently  talked  of  the  havoc  which  was 
making  among  his  disaffected  subjects  with  a  glee  at  which 
the  foreign  ministers  stood  aghast.  With  his  own  hand  he 


*  Many  writers  have  asserted,  without  the  slightest  foundation,  that  a  pardon 
was  granted  to  Ferguson  by  James.  Some  have  been  so  absurd  as  to  cite  this 
imaginary  pardon,  which,  if  it  were  real,  would  prove  only  that  Ferguson  was  a 
court  spy,  in  proof  of  the  magnanimity  and  benignity  of  the  prince  who  beheaded 
Alice  Lisle  and  burned  Elizabeth  Gaunt.  Ferguson  was  not  only  not  specially  par- 
doned, but  was  excluded  by  name  from  the  general  pardon  published  in  the  fol- 
lowing spring  (London  Gazette,  March  15,  168|).  If,  as  the  public  suspected^  and 
as  seems  probable,  indulgence  was  shown  to  him,  it  was  indulgence  of  which  James 
was,  not  without  reason,  ashamed,  and  which  was,  as  far  as  possible,  kept  secret. 
The  reports  which  were  current  in  London  at  the  time  are  mentioned  in  the  Ob- 
scrvator,  Aug.  1,  1685. 

Sir  John  Reresby,  who  ought  to  have  been  well  informed,  positively  affirms  that 
Ferguson  was  taken  three  days  after  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor.  But  Sir  John  was 
certainly  wrong  as  to  the  date,  and  may  therefore  have  been  wrong  as  to  the  whole 
story.  From  the  London  Gazette,  and  from  Goodenough's  confession  (Lansdowne 
MS.,  1152),  it  is  clear  that,  a  fortnight  after  the  battle,  Ferguson  had  not  been 
caught,  and  was  supposed  to  be  still  lurking  in  England. 

f  Granger's  Biographical  History. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  603 

had  penned  accounts  of  what  he  facetiously  called  his  Lord 
Chief  -  justice's  campaign  in  the  West.  Some  hundreds  of 
rebels,  His  Majesty  wrote  to  the  Hague,  had  been  condemned. 
Some  of  them  had  been  hanged:  more  should  be  hanged: 
and  the  rest  should  be  sent  to  the  plantations.  It  was  to  no 
purpose  that  Ken  wrote  to  implore  mercy  for  the  misguided 
people,  and  described  with  pathetic  eloquence  the  frightful 
state  of  his  diocese.  He  complained  that  it  was  impossible  to 
walk  along  the  highways  without  seeing  some  terrible  specta- 
cle, and  that  the  whole  air  of  Somersetshire  was  tainted  with 
death.  The  King  read,  and  remained,  according  to  the  say- 
ing of  Churchill,  hard  as  the  marble  chimney-pieces  of  White- 
hall. At  Windsor  the  great  seal  of  England  was  put  into 
the  hands  of  Jeffreys,  and  in  the  next  London  Ga- 

Jeffreys  made  .  "    '  .  T.I 

Lord  chancel-  zette  it  was  solemnly  notified  that  this  honor  was 

lor. 

the  reward  of  the  many  eminent  and  faithful  ser- 
vices which  he  had  rendered  to  the  crown.* 

At  a  later  period,  when  all  men  of  all  parties  spoke  with 
horror  of  the  Bloody  Assizes,  the  wicked  Judge  and  the 
wicked  King  attempted  to  vindicate  themselves  by  throwing 
the  blame  on  each  other.  Jeffreys,  in  the  Tower,  protested 
that,  in  his  utmost  cruelty,  he  had  not  gone  beyond  his  mas- 
ter's express  orders,  nay,  that  he  had  fallen  short  of  them. 
James,  at  Saint  Germains,  would  willingly  have  had  it  be- 
lieved that  his  own  inclinations  had  been  on  the  side  of  clem- 
ency, and  that  unmerited  obloquy  had  been  brought  on  him 
by  the  violence  of  his  minister.  But  neither  of  these  hard- 
hearted men  must  be  absolved  at  the  expense  of  the  other. 
The  plea  set  up  for  James  can  be  proved  under  his  own  hand 
to  be  false  in  fact.  The  plea  of  Jeffreys,  even  if  it  be  true  in 
fact,  is  utterly  worthless. 

The  slaughter  in  the  West  was  over.  The  slaughter  in 
London  was  about  to  begin.  The  government  was  peculiarly 
desirous  to  find  victims  among  the  great  Whig  merchants  of 
the  City.  They  had,  in  the  last  reign,  been  a  formidable  part 

*  Burnet,  i.,  648;  James  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  Sept.  10  and  24, 1685;  Lord 
Lonsdale'a  Memoirs;  London  Gazette,  Oct.  1, 1685. 


604:  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.V- 

of  the  strength  of  the  opposition.     They  were  wealthy ;  and 
their  wealth  was  not,  like  that  of  many  noblemen 

Trial  and  exe-  ^     . 

cutionof  cor-  and  country  gentlemen,  protected  by  entail  against 
forfeiture.  In  the  case  of  Grey,  and  of  men  situ- 
ated like  him,  it  was  impossible  to  gratify  cruelty  and  rapac- 
ity at  once:  but  a  rich  trader  might  be  both  hanged  and 
plundered.  The  commercial  grandees,  however,  though  in 
general  hostile  to  Popery  and  to  arbitrary  power,  had  yet 
been  too  scrupulous  or  too  timid  to  incur  the  guilt  of  high 
treason.  One  of  the  most  considerable  among  them  was 
Henry  Cornish.  He  had  been  an  alderman  under  the  old 
charter  of  the  City,  and  had  filled  the  office  of  Sheriff  when 
the  question  of  the  Exclusion  Bill  occupied  the  public  mind. 
In  politics  he  was  a  Whig :  his  religious  opinions  leaned  to- 
ward Presbyterianism ;  but  his  temper  was  cautious  and  mod- 
erate. It  is  not  proved  by  trustworthy  evidence  that  he  ever 
approached  the  verge  of  treason.  He  had,  indeed,  when  Sher- 
iff, been  very  unwilling  to  employ  as  his  deputy  a  man  so  vio- 
lent and  unprincipled  as  Goodenough.  When  the  Rye-house 
Plot  was  discovered,  great  hopes  were  entertained  at  White- 
hall that  Cornish  would  appear  to  have  been  concerned  :  but 
these  hopes  were  disappointed.  One  of  the  conspirators,  in- 
deed, John  Rumsey,  was  ready  to  swear  anything :  but  a  sin- 
gle witness  was  not  sufficient ;  and  no  second  witness  could 
be  found.  More  than  two  years  had  since  elapsed.  Cornish 
thought  himself  safe :  but  the  eye  of  the  tyrant  was  upon 
him.  Goodenough,  terrified  by  the  near  prospect  of  death, 
and  still  harboring  malice  on  account  of  the  unfavorable  opin- 
ion which  had  always  been  entertained  of  him  by  his  old  mas- 
ter, consented  to  supply  the  testimony  which  had  hitherto 
been  wanting.  Cornish  was  arrested  while  transacting  busi- 
ness on  the  Exchange,  was  hurried  to  jail,  was  kept  there 
some  days  in  solitary  confinement,  and  was  brought  altogether 
unprepared  to  the  bar  of  the  Old  Bailey.  The  case  against 
him  rested  wholly  on  the  evidence  of  Rumsey  and  Good- 
enough.  Both  were,  by  their  own  confession,  accomplices  in 
the  plot  with  which  they  charged  ttie  prisoner.  Both  were 
impelled  by  the  strongest  pressure  of  hope  and  fear  to  crimi- 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  605 

nate  him.  Evidence  was  produced  which  proved  that  Good- 
enough  was  also  under  the  influence  of  personal  enmity. 
Rumsey's  story  was  inconsistent  with  the  story  which  he  had 
told  when  he  appeared  as  a  witness  against  Lord  Russell. 
But  these  things  were  urged  in  vain.  On  the  bench  sat  three 
judges  who  had  been  with  Jeffreys  in  the  West ;  and  it  was 
remarked  by  those  who  watched  their  deportment  that  they 
had  come  back  from  the  carnage  of  Taunton  in  a  fierce  and 
excited  state.  It  is  indeed  but  too  true  that  the  taste  for 
blood  is  a  taste  which  even  men  not  naturally  cruel  may,  by 
habit,  speedily  acquire.  The  bar  and  the  bench  united  to 
browbeat  the  unfortunate  Whig.  The  jury,  named  by  a 
courtly  Sheriff,  readily  found  a  verdict  of  Guilty ;  arid,  in 
spite  of  the  indignant  murmurs  of  the  public,  Cornish  suffered 
death  within  ten  days  after  he  had  been  arrested.  That  no 
circumstance  of  degradation  might  be  wanting,  the  gibbet  was 
set  up  where  King  Street  meets  Cheapside,  in  sight  of  the 
house  where  he  had  long  lived  in  general  respect,  of  the  Ex- 
change where  his  credit  had  always  stood  high,  and  of  the 
Guildhall  where  he  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  popular 
leader.  lie  died  with  courage  and  with  many  pious  expres- 
sions, but  showed,  by  look  and  gesture,  such  strong  resent- 
ment at  the  barbarity  and  injustice  with  which  he  had  been 
treated,  that  his  enemies  spread  a  calumnious  report  concern- 
ing him.  lie  was  drunk,  they  said,  or  out  of  his  mind,  when 
he  was  turned  off.  William  Penn,  however,  who  stood  near 
the  gallows,  and  whose  prejudices  were  all  on  the  side  of  the 
government,  afterward  said  that  he  could  see  in  Cornish's  de- 
portment nothing  but  the  natural  indignation  of  an  innocent 
man  slain  under  the  forms  of  law.  The  head  of  the  murdered 
magistrate  was  placed  over  the  Guildhall.* 

Black  as  this  case  was,  it  was  not  the  blackest  which  dis- 
graced the  sessions  of  that  autumn  at  the  Old  Baile}'.  Among 
the  persons  concerned  in  the  Rye-house  Plot  was  a  man  named 
James  Burton.  By  his  own  confession  he  had  been  present 


*  Trial  of  Cornish  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials ;  Sir  J.  Hawles's  Remarks  on 
Mr.  Cornish's  Trial ;  Burnet,  i.,  651 ;  Bloody  Assizes  ;  Stat.  1  Gul.  &  Mar. 


606  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  Cn.V. 

when  the  design  of  assassination  was  discussed  by  his  accom- 
plices.   When  the  conspiracy  was  detected,  a  reward 

Trials  ami  exe-    L  a-         -,     r         -,  •  •>  • 

cutionsof        was  ottered  for  his  apprehension.     He  was  saved 

Keniley  and 

KHzabetu  from  death  by  an  ancient  matron  of  the  Baptist 
persuasion,  named  Elizabeth  Gaunt.  This  woman, 
with  the  peculiar  manners  and  phraseology  which  then  distin- 
guished her  sect,  had  a  large  charity.  Her  life  was  passed  in 
relieving  the  unhappy  of  all  religious  denominations,  and  she 
was  well  known  as  a  constant  visitor  of  the  jails.  Her  politi- 
cal and  theological  opinions,  as  well  as  her  compassionate  dis- 
position, led  her  to  do  everything  in  her  power  for  Burton. 
She  procured  a  boat  which  took  him  to  Gravesend,  where  he 
got  on  board  of  a  ship  bound  for  Amsterdam.  At  the  mo- 
ment of  parting  she  put  into  his  hand  a  sum  of  money  which, 
for  her  means,  was  very  large.  Burton,  after  living  some 
time  in  exile,  returned  to  England  with  Monmouth,  fought  at 
Sedgemoor,  fled  to  London,  and  took  refuge  in  the  house  of 
John  Fernley,  a  barber  in  Whitechapel.  Fernley  was  very 
poor.  He  was  besieged  by  creditors.  He  knew  that  a  reward 
of  a  hundred  pounds  had  been  offered  by  the  government  for 
the  apprehension  of  Burton.  But  the  honest  man  was  inca- 
pable of  betraying  one  who,  in  extreme  peril,  had  come  under 
the  shadow  of  his  roof.  Unhappily  it  was  soon  noised  abroad 
that  the  anger  of  James  was  more  strongly  excited  against 
those  who  harbored  rebels  than  against  the  rebels  themselves. 
He  had  publicly  declared  that  of  all  forms  of  treason  the  hid- 
ing of  traitors  from  his  vengeance  was  the  most  unpardonable. 
Burton  knew  this.  He  delivered  hiinself  up  to  the  govern- 
ment ;  and  he  gave  information  against  Fernley  and  Eliza- 
beth Gaunt.  They  were  brought  to  trial.  The  villain  whose 
life  they  had  preserved  had  the  heart  and  the  forehead  to 
appear  as  the  principal  witness  against  them.  They  were 
convicted.  Fernley  was  sentenced  to  the  gallows,  Elizabeth 
Gaunt  to  the  stake.  Even  after  all  the  horrors  of  that  year, 
many  thought  it  impossible  that  these  judgments  should  be 
carried  into  execution.  Bat  the  King  was  without  pity. 
Fernley  was  hanged.  Elizabeth  Gaunt  was  burned  alive  at 
Tyburn  on  the  same  day  on  which  Cornish  suffered  death  in 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  607 

Cheapside.  She  left  a  paper,  written  indeed  in  no  graceful 
style,  yet  such  as  was  read  by  many  thousands  with  compas- 
sion and  horror.  "  My  fault,"  she  said,  "  was  one  which  a 
prince  might  well  have  forgiven.  I  did  but  relieve  a  poor 
family ;  and  lo !  I  must  die  for  it."  She  complained  of  the 
insolence  of  the  judges,  of  the  ferocity  of  the  jailer,  and  of 
the  tyranny  of  him,  the  great  one  of  all,  to  whose  pleasure 
she  and  so  many  other  victims  had  been  sacrificed.  In  so 
far  as  they  had  injured  herself,  she  forgave  them :  but,  in 
that  they  were  implacable  enemies  of  that  good  cause  which 
would  yet  revive  and  flourish,  she  left  them  to  the  judgment 
of  the  King  of  kings.  To  the  last  she  preserved  a  tranquil 
courage,  which  reminded  the  spectators  of  the  most  heroic 
deaths  of  which  they  had  read  in  Fox.  William  Penn,  for 
whom  exhibitions  which  humane  men  generally  avoid  seem 
to  have  had  a  strong  attraction,  hastened  from  Cheapside, 
where  he  had  seen  Cornish  hanged,  to  Tyburn,  in  order  to 
see  Elizabeth  Gaunt  burned.  lie  afterward  related  that, 
when  she  calmly  disposed  the  straw  about  her  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  shorten  her  sufferings,  all  the  by-standers  burst  into 
tears.  It  was  much  noticed  that,  while  the  foulest  judicial 
murder  which  had  disgraced  even  those  times  was  perpetra- 
ting, a  tempest  burst  forth,  such  as  had  not  been  known  since 
that  great  hurricane  which  had  raged  round  the  death-bed  of 
Oliver.  The  oppressed  Puritans  reckoned  up,  not  without  a 
gloomy  satisfaction,  the  houses  which  had  been  blown  down, 
and  the  ships  which  had  been  cast  away,  and  derived  some 
consolation  from  thinking  that  heaven  was  bearing  awful  tes- 
timony against  the  iniquity  which  afflicted  the  earth.  Since 
that  terrible  day  no  woman  has  suffered  death  in  England  for 
any  political  offence.* 

It  was  not  thought  that  Goodenough  had  yet  earned  his 
pardon.  The  government  was  bent  on  destroying  a  victim  of 
no  high  rank,  a  surgeon  in  the  City,  named  Bateman.  He  had 
attended  Shaftesbury  professionally,  and  had  been  a  zealous 

*  Trials  of  Fernley  and  Elizabeth  Gaunt,  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials ;  Bur- 
net,  i.,  649  ;  Bloody  Assizes ;  Sir  J.  Bramston's  Memoirs ;  Luttrell's  Diary,  Oct.  23, 
1685. 


608  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

Exclusionist.     He  may  possibly  have  been  privy  to  the  Whig 
Plot ;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  had  not  been  one 

Trial  and  exe-  .  . 

cutionofuate-  of  the  leading  conspirators;  for,  in  the  great  mass 
of  depositions  published  by  the  government,  his 
name  occurs  only  once,  and  then  not  in  connection  with  any 
crime  bordering  on  high  treason.  From  his  indictment,  and 
from  the  scanty  account  which  remains  of  his  trial,  it  seems 
clear  that  he  was  not  even  accused  of  participating  in  the  de- 
sign of  murdering  the  royal  brothers.  The  malignity  with 
which  so  obscure  a  man,  guilty  of  so  slight  an  offence,  was 
hunted  down,  while  traitors  far  more  criminal  and  far  more 
eminent  wero  allowred  to  ransom  themselves  by  giving  evi- 
dence against  him,  seemed  to  require  explanation ;  and  a 
disgraceful  explanation  was  found.  AVhen  Gates,  after  his 
scourging,  was  carried  into  Newgate  insensible,  and,  as  all 
thought,  in  the  last  agony,  he  had  been  bled  and  his  wounds 
had  been  dressed  by  Bateman.  This  was  an  offence  not  to 
be  forgiven.  Bateman  was  arrested  and  indicted.  The  wit- 
nesses against  him  were  men  of  infamous  character,  men,  too, 
who  were  swearing  for  their  own  lives.  None  of  them  had 
yet  got  his  pardon ;  and  it  was  a  popular  saying,  that  they 
fished  for  prey,  like  tame  cormorants,  with  ropes  round  their 
necks.  The  prisoner,  stupefied  by  illness,  wras  unable  to  artic- 
ulate, or  to  understand  what  passed.  His  son  and  daughter 
stood  by  him  at  the  bar.  They  read  as  well  as  they  could 
some  notes  which  he  had  set  down,  and  examined  his  wit- 
nesses. It  was  to  little  purpose.  He  was  convicted,  hanged, 
and  quartered.* 

Never,  not  even  under  the  tyranny  of  Laud,  had  the  con- 
dition of  the  Puritans  been  so   deplorable  as  at  that  time. 
Never  had  spies  been   so    actively   employed  in 

Persecution  of  .  -NT  i       -i  • 

the  Protestant  detecting  congregations.      Never  had  magistrates, 

Dissenters.  &  & 

grand  jurors,  rectors,  and  church -wardens  been  so 
much  on  the  alert.  Many  Dissenters  wrere  cited  before  the 
ecclesiastical  courts.  Others  found  it  necessary  to  purchase 

*  Bateman's  Trial  in  the  Collection  of  State  Trials ;  Sir  John  Hawles's  Remarks. 
It  is  \vorth  while  to  compare  Thomas  Lee's  evidence  on  this  occasion  with  his  con- 
fession previously  published  by  authority. 


1685.  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  609 

the  connivance  of  the  agents  of  the  government  by  presents 
of  hogsheads  of  wine,  and  of  gloves  stuffed  with  guineas.  It 
was  impossible  for  the  separatists  to  pray  together  without 
precautions  such  as  are  employed  by  coiners  and  receivers  of 
stolen  goods.  The  places  of  meeting  were  frequently  changed. 
Worship  was  performed  sometimes  just  before  break  of  day 
and  sometimes  at  dead  of  night.  Round  the  building  where 
the  little  flock  was  gathered  sentinels  were  posted  to  give  the 
alarm  if  a  stranger  drew  near.  The  minister,  in  disguise,  was 
introduced  through  the  garden  and  the  back  yard.  In  some 
houses  there  were  trap-doors  through  which,  in  case  of  dan- 
ger, he  might  descend.  Where  Non-conformists  lived  next 
door  to  each  other,  the  walls  were  often  broken  open,  and 
secret  passages  were  made  from  dwelling  to  dwelling.  No 
psalm  was  sung;  and  many  contrivances  were  used  to  pre- 
vent the  voice  of  the  preacher,  in  his  moments  of  fervor,  from 
being  heard  beyond  the  walls.  Yet,  with  all  this  care,  it  was 
often  found  impossible  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  informers. 
In  the  suburbs  of  London,  especially,  the  law  was  enforced 
with  the  utmost  rigor.  Several  opulent  gentlemen  were  ac- 
cused of  holding  conventicles.  Their  houses  were  strictly 
searched,  and  distresses  were  levied  to  the  amount  of  many 
thousands  of  pounds.  The  fiercer  and  bolder  sectaries,  thus 
driven  from  the  shelter  of  roofs,  met  in  the  open  air,  and  de- 
termined to  repel  force  by  force.  A  Middlesex  justice,  who 
had  learned  that  a  nightly  prayer-meeting  was  held  in  a  gravel- 
pit  about  two  miles  from  London,  took  with  him  a  strong- 
body  of  constables,  broke  in  upon  the  assembly,  and  seized 
the  preacher.  But  the  congregation,  which  consisted  of  about 
two  hundred  men,  soon  rescued  their  pastor,  and  put  the  mag- 
istrate and  his  officers  to  flight.*  This,  however,  was  no  ordi- 
nary occurrence.  In  general  the  Puritan  spirit  seemed  to  be 
more  effectually  cowed  at  this  conjuncture  than  at  any  mo- 
ment )>efore  or  since.  The  Tory  pamphleteers  boasted  that 
not  one  fanatic  dared  to  move  tongue  or  pen  in  defence  of 
his  religious  opinions.  Dissenting  ministers,  however  blame- 

*  Van  Citters,  Oct.  ||,  1685. 

L— 39 


G10  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  CH.  V. 

less  in  life,  however  eminent  for  learning  and  abilities,  could 
not  venture  to  walk  the  streets  for  fear  of  outrages,  which 
were  not  only  not  repressed,  but  encouraged,  by  those  whose 
duty  it  was  to  preserve  the  peace.  Some  divines  of  great 
fame  were  in  prison.  Among  these  was  Richard  Baxter. 
Others,  who  had,  during  a  quarter  of  a  century,  borne  up 
against  oppression,  now  lost  heart,  and  quitted  the  kingdom. 
Among  these  was  John  Howe.  Great  numbers  of  persons 
who  had  been  accustomed  to  frequent  conventicles  repaired 
to  the  parish  churches.  It  was  remarked  that  the  schismatics 
who  had  been  terrified  into  this  show  of  conformity  might 
easily  be  distinguished  by  the  difficulty  which  they  had  in 
finding  out  the  collect,  and  by  the  awkward  manner  in  which 
they  bowed  at  the  name  of  Jesus.* 

Through  many  years  the  autumn  of  1G85  was  remembered 
by  the  Non-conformists  as  a  time  of  misery  and  terror.  Yet 
in  that  autumn  might  be  discerned  the  first  faint  indications 
of  a  great  turn  of  fortune  ;  and  before  eighteen  months  had 
elapsed,  the  intolerant  King  and  the  intolerant  Church  were 
eagerly  bidding  against  each  other  for  the  support  of  the  party 
which  both  had  so  deeply  injured. 

*  Ncal's  History  of  the  Puritans,  Calamy's  Account  of  the  ejected  Ministers, 
and  the  Non-conformists'  Memorial,  contain  abundant  proofs  of  the  severity  of 
this  persecution.  Howe's  farewell  letter  to  his  flock  will  be  found  in  the  inter- 
esting life  of  that  great  man,  by  Mr.  Rogers.  Howe  complains  that  he  could  not 
venture  to  show  himself  in  the  streets  of  London,  and  that  his  health  had  suffered 
from  want  of  air  and  exercise.  But  the  most  vivid  picture  of  the  distress  of  the 
Non-conformists  is  furnished  by  their  deadly  enemy,  Lestrange,  in  the  Observators 
of  September  and  October,  1685. 


END   OF   VOL.  I. 


